


treading water

by noodletastic



Series: hard truths [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Other character cameos - Freeform, Recreational Drug Use, Teen Angst, Teen Ninjas - Freeform, Teen Romance, genma is bad at feelings thus chooses not to have them, references to parental neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25931251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodletastic/pseuds/noodletastic
Summary: To admit to having feelings for Raidou would mean needing to admit that he had feelings in general, and that was the edge of a very slippery slope. Genma had calculated the risks of admitting his feelings, and his conclusion was that to do so would be a detriment to their friendship. And these days, without Raidou as his friend, he didn’t know if life would be much worth living.or: the story of genma and raidou, before and during "to speak what's true"
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Namiashi Raidou/Shiranui Genma, Nohara Rin/Uchiha Obito
Series: hard truths [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881925
Comments: 14
Kudos: 60





	treading water

Genma was eleven when he first met Raidou.

It was a hot summer day in Konoha. Genma woke up sweaty, and didn’t bother to bathe beyond splashing water in his face before joining his father to tend to their small family garden. It took up most of his morning, and he ignored the distant shouts of neighborhood children as he focused on tugging weeds.

When he finally left for his afternoon conditioning, his father only said, “Don’t stay out too late. We’ll need to mend the roof tomorrow.”

Genma chose not to mention that every tomorrow something would need mending, and just nodded and left, eager to see his friends. When he arrived at the practice field, he spotted Kakashi and Obito at the edge of the clearing.

“Yo,” he greeted, joining them. Kakashi lifted a hand, his covered nose buried in a book. Obito didn’t say anything, curiously peering across the field. Genma waved a hand in his face, and Obito just leaned to the side to look past it.

“He’s looking at the new boy,” Kakashi explained, looking up briefly from his book.

“New boy?” Genma glanced over his shoulder, idly rolling his toothpick to the opposite side of his mouth. The wood was beginning to splinter against his tongue, he noticed. He’d need to get a new one.

“Yeah.” Obito stretched to his tiptoes for a moment, before dropping back to his flat feet, looking at Genma. “I guess he and his family were traveling back from Iwagakure and they got attacked by missing nin.”

“They all made it home,” Kakashi said. He closed his book, tucking it into his pocket. “But I guess it woke his chakra up.”

“How old is he?” Genma couldn’t see anyone new, though their older classmates seemed to be gathered around someone.

“Older than us.” Kakashi shrugged.

Their ANBU sensei dropped from the trees before they could say anything further. He had bright yellow hair and a red frog depicted on his mask. He lifted a jovial hand, calling everyone into formation. Genma slouched to the back of the group with his friends, falling into place behind Sarutobi Asuma, who apparently still hadn’t figured out how to wear deodorant even though puberty had made him shoot up nearly half a foot since winter. Genma wrinkled his nose, silently wondering if Kakashi was onto something with the whole mask thing.

“Everyone! Eyes here!” The Frog gestured someone forward, and the boy who stepped up beside him looked a bit older than Genma, maybe thirteen like Asuma. Unlikely to spend time with them, then. He had the stretched out look of someone who had just hit puberty, and messy mouse brown hair. There was a red bandage stretched across his face, over the bridge of his nose. He looked sullen and almost foul-tempered, his hands held in fists at his sides. “This is Raidou-kun. He’s new, so if he needs help, help him.”

“Yes, sensei,” they all said.

They fell directly into kata after that. Genma focused on flowing through the sets, making sure his movements were concise and economical. It was only every once and a while that his curious eyes roamed over the rest of the students to find the new boy. He wasn’t doing so well, lagging behind like each set was a dance he couldn’t quite remember the moves to. He moved the wrong limbs at the wrong moments, and kept stopping awkwardly to try and catch up with the rest of his peers.

It was embarrassing to watch, so Genma stopped looking.

Later, during their run, Genma flew through the trees alongside Kakashi. Obito had fallen behind early, still not quite as adept at jumping from branch to branch as they were. He and Kakashi led the pack, actually, right on the heels of the Frog. Their goal today, as it was every day the Frog was their teacher, was to outpace him, and even though they were pushing themselves as fast as they could go, the Frog was still ahead of them, moving at a seemingly leisurely pace.

When Genma glanced over his shoulder to look for Obito, he couldn’t help but notice how the new boy was running with his feet firmly on the ground. He was significantly dirtier than he’d been at the start, and Genma didn’t have to wonder why for long; in a fantastic display of clumsiness, the boy tripped over a protruding root and went skidding across the ground on his hands and knees.

Genma looked away quickly. He nearly slipped from the next branch he landed on, secondhand embarrassment making him wince in sympathy.

During their sparring that afternoon, Genma was paired with Obito, while Kakashi was paired with one of the older boys. Genma tried not to be too jealous that Kakashi was deftly handling his opponent, while he couldn’t even manage to escape his fight with Obito without catching a solid chin punch that was enough to make his head spin. He delivered a kick that knocked the breath out of Obito in return, and they decided to call it a draw, collapsing together for a break.

Genma found himself looking for the new boy again. He had been paired with Itachi, the comparison between both their size and skill level laughable. Itachi had just turned nine at the beginning of the summer and was small for his age, regardless. The new boy- Raidou, had at least a foot on him, but his form was nonexistent and his body was wide open for hits. Itachi, with his textbook perfect form, and speed, was difficult for Genma to beat.

But Itachi seemed to have decided not to fight. Instead, he was guiding Raidou gently into a better stance, small hands turning his elbows and brushing over his shoulders so he would hold them straight. He nudged Raidou’s feet apart and demonstrated the best way to anchor your body so no one could knock you down.

Even from a distance, Genma could see the tentative smile on the new boy’s face. He looked away again.

\---

Raidou’s improvement was slow, and Genma was secretly sure that he wouldn’t have noticed it at all if he didn’t spend every training session discreetly watching him. Clumsiness seemed to be a fundamental part of who Raidou was, and was proving to be a bit of a learning barrier. He picked up on kata much slower than most new fledgling shinobi, much to the chagrin of the majority of their teachers. At a certain point, they each seemed to give up on helping him, letting him fumble his way through the patterns each afternoon.

But he was improving. Genma noticed in late fall that some of his discomfort had fallen away, shoulders more relaxed even though he was still painfully behind. He wasn’t sure who had taught him, but one day he noticed that Raidou had graduated from the ground to join them in the trees on their runs, more graceful jumping from branch to branch than he had been on the ground.

And he could take a hit. Which was incredibly lucky for him, since by Genma’s count, he had won less than five sparring matches despite coming to class daily for months.

As painful as it was to watch, Genma couldn’t really help himself. There was something about Raidou that was fascinating. He admired the older boy’s determination; not once did he miss a class, even though he left each day with new bruises.

He’d been right from the beginning when he thought that Raidou wouldn’t choose them for friends; instead he’d ended up at Asuma’s side, both of them matching, gawky preteens with more limb than sense, if you asked Genma. He never so much as glanced at Genma or his friends, other than Rin- and that was simply because she was usually the one assigned to patch him up when he got a little too injured to ignore.

Genma watched him for over a year without ever speaking to him. When he did, it was only because their teacher paired them to spar on a quiet afternoon at the beginning of summer. Almost no one had come to training that day, including Kakashi and Obito, who were both off doing some kind of special training with their special clans.

Genma was not jealous.

Genma was also not nervous as he stepped up to meet Raidou. He felt uncomfortable for a reason he couldn’t place, every part of his body feeling awkward under Raidou’s dark gaze.

“Raidou,” the other boy said, lips parting in a quick smile. “What’s your name, again?”

Genma hated that he had to look up at him from this close, clenching his teeth around his tooth pick almost hard enough to snap the delicate wood. “Genma,” he said stiffly.

“Good luck, Genma-kun.” Up close, the scar on his nose and cheek seemed lifted, healed to a color just barely different than the rest of his face. Genma felt the bizarre urge to touch it, to examine the texture of the damaged skin.

Instead, he held up two fingers in the seal of confrontation, smirking half-heartedly. “Good luck, Raidou-senpai.”

Raidou nodded and held up his fingers in return, before taking a careful step back and falling into a defensive stance. He was so much more comfortable than he’d once been, but Genma knew he was weak in his left leg, and that he always forgot to block his right ribs.

Genma engaged first, fluidly attacking Raidou’s strongest guard points. Raidou blocked each attack with ease, mouth settled into a concentrated frown. He struck back and Genma blocked each fist and leg easily, though the strikes were hard enough to jar him. But Raidou missed all the openings Genma peppered into his stance, passing up obvious opportunities to take Genma down.

Maybe this was why Raidou still hadn’t won more than ten sparring matches. He couldn’t see glaring weaknesses, no matter how obvious Genma tried to make them. It went against his nature to leave openings like this, and the fact that Raidou was missing them was even worse- Genma just wanted him to _win._

Genma didn’t even see the strike coming when Raidou snapped a hand past his defense, striking him across the cheek hard enough to send him stumbling to the left. He looked up at him quickly, falling into a defensive crouch. He hadn’t left that opening for Raidou, and hadn’t expected the hit at all.

Raidou’s concentrated frown had become a near glower, one had swiping beneath his nose. “Stop baiting me,” he snapped.

“I’m not.” Genma slid back to his feet, tenderly feeling out the split on the inside of his cheek. His toothpick was gone, and his mouth tasted metallic.

“You are.” Raidou stepped forward before Genma could steady himself on his feet. He struck and Genma dodged, cursing as he stumbled back a step.

“Why would I do that?” Genma glowered, centering himself again. This time, he left no angle open, squaring his shoulders firmly.

“Good question.” Raidou made a summoning gesture with one hand. “We both know you’re better than me. So stop playing games.”

“I’m not _playing._ ” Genma moved forward, faking a left hook and instead landing a solid knee to Raidou’s right side. It made him gasp and stumble, but he recovered quickly. Raidou could really take a hit.

“That’s better.” Raidou moved back a half-step to reassess Genma. “You were leaving yourself wide open.”

“Then you should have hit me,” Genma snapped. He dropped to the ground, frustrated, and swept his leg quickly below Raidou’s defenses, targeting his weak leg to knock him to his ass with little-to-no effort. He rolled forward and over Raidou before he could recover, crouching over his legs, one hand grabbing his collar and his other fist raised, threatening a strike.

Raidou lifted his hands in surrender, smiling faintly at Genma even though he had officially lost. “Maybe,” he agreed.

Genma flexed his hand in Raidou’s shirt. “Why didn’t you?” He tipped his head back, glaring down his nose at him.

“I like to win fair and square.” He wrapped his fingers around Genma’s wrist, tugging his hand away from his shirt. “It wouldn’t be very fair if you let me win.”

Genma tugged his arm out of Raidou’s grip and stood, tucking his hands into his pockets as he stepped away. “Well. You never win.”

“You noticed that?” Raidou pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the seat of his pants. Genma just stared at him. “Well, I guess that can’t be helped.” He shrugged and extended his hand to Genma.

Genma reached out, hooking their fingers together in the reconciliation seal. He looked away as their hands touched, suddenly unable to face him. Raidou wore black cloth rings, and with their fingers linked, Genma could feel how soft the fabric was. “Good match,” he muttered.

“Maybe next time you’ll respect me enough to take me seriously,” Raidou said lightly. Genma looked up at him quickly, a shamed blush rising in his cheeks.

“No- I take you seriously,” he said quickly.

Raidou smiled and pulled his hand away, lifting it in a parting wave instead. “No, you don’t. But that’s okay.” He stepped back. “Later, Genma-kun.”

“Later,” Genma said, watching him turn and walk away to join his friends on the opposite side of the field.

\---

They didn’t get paired together again that summer, and sometime in the following fall, Raidou stopped showing up to training. Genma still saw him sometimes around town, or hanging out with Asuma or their agemate, Uchiha Shisui. He caught himself looking for him whenever he went out, peeking into stores even as he chatted with Kakashi or argued with Gai. He felt strangely bereft now that he didn’t have a guarantee to see him each afternoon. He tried to ignore it, and tried to stop himself from automatically seeking out his familiar form, but it was hard- because he wanted him to be there.

“It’s a bit embarrassing, you know,” Kakashi said one afternoon. It was rare that Kakashi came to this class, these days. They were lounging under a tree near the training field, cooling down after a particularly vicious sparring session. Genma had faced Gai and managed to win, spurring their over-eager friend to punish himself with a thousand push-ups. Kakashi had fought Asuma, and ended up with a nasty gash on his leg from Asuma’s wind blade that Rin was still working to heal.

“What is?” Genma glanced over, sprawled across the grass a few feet away from Kakashi. He could smell his blood, and it was a bit disturbing.

“You keep looking for Raidou. It was bad enough when you’d watch him all day. Now it’s just sad.”

“Kakashi,” Rin hissed, glancing up from her work.

“What?” he drawled. “It’s true.”

“What are you talking about?” Genma scoffed, looking back at the sky. He chewed his toothpick in a way he hoped came off as nonchalant.

“Ah, I didn’t know we were practicing our lying today,” Kakashi said lightly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Genma said firmly. It was sheer force of will that kept him from blushing, and he resolutely decided it was time to forget Namiashi Raidou.

\---

Genma was fourteen when he accepted his first mission. Though it was fairly uncommon for those younger than eighteen to take on field work, sometimes it was necessary. There was some sort of civil unrest in Kusagakure, and many of Konoha’s elite had been hired out to assist. This left manpower for close-range missions at a disadvantage, and meant that underaged shinobi with advanced skills were selected for low-risk field work in their absence. And they were paid for their efforts, both in experience and in cash.

Genma needed both.

Putting on his own ANBU mask for the first time felt strange. It was heavier than the blank practice mask he had received when he began his training, and fit tighter, designed specifically to mold to his face. Unlike most of his friends, he didn’t have a lineage animal, and had needed to select his own. He chose a black cat design, with curling red whiskers. When he put it on, he felt some human part of himself disappear, replaced by the cold, hard version that he’d been cultivating since he was eight years old.

He felt like a predator as he moved soundlessly through the trees with the rest of his new squad, seamlessly fading into the shadows of the leaves.

His squad mates were older than him and fully fledged shinobi. One was the Frog, who introduced himself before they began as Minato-san. He had a sweet smile that matched his demeanor from every lesson he had taught Genma and his class, but that demeanor disappeared as soon as they passed through Konoha’s gates, replaced with a sleek ease of movement and speed that Genma silently struggled to keep up with. His other teammate wore an Ox mask and introduced himself as Ibiki. He was younger than Minato, barely twenty. Genma could distantly remember training with him when they were both younger. Now, he loomed over Genma in both size and stature. There was no change in his presence when the mask went on, and despite his bulk, he was as graceful as Minato.

Their mission was only meant to last two days. It was a simple retrieval of information from a contact just outside the borders of the Land of Fire. It was labeled as a C-rank mission, though Minato assured him before they left that it could barely be classified as that. There was no trouble expected. This, of course, was Genma’s first lesson to _always_ expect trouble.

They stumbled on a cell of Kusagakure defectors in Fire Country on their way back from the pick-up. There were six of them. When they were forced to engage, Minato asked what business they had within the borders, and their response was to immediately attack.

In the haze of the battle, Genma found himself separated from his companions, doggedly pushed further and further into the trees and away from them. The skill level of his pursuer far exceeded his own, and the woman gave him no time to reorient himself as he dodged through the trees. Night was already falling when the battle began, and by the time Genma lost her, he was tired, bleeding, had no idea where he was, and the forest around him was pitch dark. He managed to find shelter in a narrow crevice by a waterfall, wedging his narrow body through slick, cold stone until the space widened enough for him to sit down.

He tended to his wounds by touch, too nervous to risk turning on his torch. Most of his wounds were surface level scraps and cuts, though some stung sharply when he rubbed them clean. What was more concerning was the burning pain in his right shoulder that no stretching could relieve and his right ankle was sensitive in a way that warned him of future mobility issues. There was nothing he could do other than wrap his ankle as tightly as he could in bandages and hope it would provide enough support for him to make it home in the morning, or at the very least get him close enough to Konoha for someone to find him.

He curled up on the stone with a kunai in his hands, and fell into a fitful half-sleep for a few scarce hours.

He left before the moon had set, the sky still dark. He couldn’t sleep anymore, and he had grown paranoid of his hideout, distinctly aware of how easy it would be to be cornered by an enemy. At least if he was on the move, he would be able to run.

He determined that the chase had pushed him east along the border of the Land of Fire, but not into the Land of Sound as he had feared. He headed southwest, hoping that his trajectory would carry him home, or maybe he would get lucky and cross paths with Minato and Ibiki. They were probably looking for him. Genma had never been more jealous of Kakashi’s keen nose.

The sun was beginning to rise when Genma sensed someone behind him. He came to a halt, moving down the branch to brace his back against the trunk of the tree he had landed in. He focused, searching his surroundings for enemies, but he didn’t have to wait long; the woman who had been tracking him the night before landed down the branch from him in a crouch, a wicked grin on her uncovered face. Genma wondered distantly if he would find her in his bingo book.

He pulled a kunai from his thigh holster, resolutely facing her. He was too tired to outrun her now. His ankle throbbed with every jump, and his shoulder had gone from burning to actively numb, his arm hanging uselessly at his side. It left him left-handed and at a severe disadvantage, though he supposed he should be grateful that she didn’t have much weight on him. She was a small woman, and if she didn’t try anything too tricky, he might be able to outmatch her.

“Here, kitty-kitty,” she cooed. She straightened and stepped towards him slowly with a hand extended in a summoning gesture, mocking him. She was casually gripping her tanto blade in the opposite hand. The weapon was responsible for the stinging cuts on his exposed arms. “Come here, let us give you a little treat. You’re quite sneaky.”

Genma didn’t say a word, shifting carefully into a crouch with his weight braced on his good leg. She wasn’t approaching him in a fighting stance, so it was impossible to tell where her weaknesses might be. But she was a full fledged shinobi, and Genma doubted he would be able to find one he could actually exploit.

“Come on, kitty, don’t play coy.” She stepped closer and Genma let out a slow breath, coiling his chakra into his good foot. If he moved fast enough, maybe he could strike before she could protect herself. He stayed silent, deeply grateful for a mask that could hide the fear in his eyes.

Her playful grin fell away, replaced with a frosty, blank gaze. “Nothing to say? Then I’ll just have to make you yowl.”

She moved faster than he could track and he rerouted his energy, letting himself fall to the side, using the chakra already gathered in his foot to adhere him to the bottom of the limb instead. He heard her strike the tree where he had just been, before his focus snapped like a rubber band and he fell from the limb to the ground in a graceless pile of half-useless limbs. He struggled to his knees, panting, and lifted his kunai again when she dropped onto the forest floor before him.

“Sneaky,” she hissed, and lunged for him again. This time, he couldn’t do a thing but block, lifting his kunai and focusing as she came forward, her tanto blade coming in a quick, deadly arc.

There was a clash of metal on metal, and Genma stared up in shock as another Konoha shinobi intercepted the strike meant for him. He was brandishing a black sword, the hilt of it locked in close quarters with the blade of the enemy nin. He let out a snarl, pushing her back with a quick slice of his sword.

She jumped back, fighting posture going serious once more at the appearance of a new enemy. “Well, well. Someone’s come to save you, kitten.”

“You should go,” Genma’s new companion said, addressing his opponent. “You only have about twelve hours.”

She sneered, twirling her blade. “What are you talking about?”

“Look at your arm.”

Genma looked at the same time she did. There was a cut on her upper arm, between her dark gloves and the sleeve of her tight dress. It was dripping blood, but it didn’t look significant to Genma. She seemed to agree, scoffing as she looked back up. “That’s barely a scratch.”

“It’s enough. You’ll feel the poison soon, don’t worry.”

Her face dropped, eyes widening. “Poison- you _bastard_.”

“A skilled medic may be able to do something about it. At the very least, they may be able to stop the creeping paralysis that will begin in the next thirty minutes.” A pause. “How long will it take you to get to someone, I wonder?”

She looked over his shoulder at Genma, eyes narrowing distastefully, before she looked at his savior again. “Konoha scum.” She spit in his direction and then disappeared into the trees.

Genma dropped his hand, closing his eyes for just a moment in relief before dragging himself slowly to his feet. His rescue hadn’t moved, head cocked to the side like he was listening for something. Finally, his posture relaxed and he returned his sword to it’s sheath across his back. He turned to face Genma, his face covered by a mask portraying a goat’s face in red and purple lines.

“Are you okay?”

Genma nodded stiffly, replacing his kunai in his thigh holster. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but at this point he had been training with ANBU for nearly half his life. He thought he might distantly recognize the voice behind every mask. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Genma clenched his jaw, annoyed, and straightened his shoulders. It made his injured shoulder scream, pinpricks of pain racing down his numb arm. “Yes,” he repeated. He didn’t feel like being treated as a child, even if the very human part of him that was being subdued by his mask was just begging to go _home._

The Goat stared at him for a long moment, before tipping his head like he was listening for something again. Then he reached up, drawing his mask to the side to reveal-

To reveal Raidou, the scarred half of his face and one steady, dark eye. He waited for just a moment, long enough for Genma to recognize him, before settling his mask firmly back over his face. “Your team came for help when they couldn’t find you after they neutralized the rest of the enemies. Your friends wanted to come, but taichou wouldn’t allow it. I promised to find you in their place.”

Genma stared at him, shocked. He could see clearly that it was Raidou now, even with his face covered, from his familiar, slowly broadening shoulders and always-present black rings. “You’re in the field,” he said faintly.

Raidou cocked his head, and this time it seemed to be a display of humor. “I’ve learned a lot since we last trained together.”

“I thought you’d quit,” Genma said honestly. “You stopped coming to conditioning.”

“It’s a long story.” He stepped closer, reaching a hand out to squeeze Genma’s good arm. “Seriously, can you run?”

Genma hesitated, before shaking his head. “My ankle’s shot,” he said honestly. He nodded his head towards his right arm. “I can’t even lift my arm.”

Raidou let out a slow, sympathetic hiss. “We’re not far from the rendezvous point. I can’t heal you, but I can carry you.”

A rush of heat flooded his face unbidden, and Genma quickly wrote it off as shame. “No.”

“We don’t know if anyone else is out here,” Raidou pointed out. “We need to get back to the others.” He shifted, twisting his sword to cross his chest rather than his back, and turned to crouch in front of him. “Climb aboard.”

“This isn’t necessary,” Genma stated, carefully erasing any inflection from his words. Raidou just patted his own shoulder, brokering no argument.

Genma swallowed his pride and wrapped his good arm around Raidou. Raidou stood, lifting Genma onto his back by the bottom of his thighs. “Comfortable?” Raidou checked.

Genma rested his chin on Raidou’s shoulder, his whole body tense. “Just peachy,” he muttered. Raidou let out a breath that may have been a chuckle, and leapt into the trees.

\---

They were the last to make it back to the meeting point, which turned out to be the battle ground from hours before. Minato and Ibiki were already there, and Minato moved forward immediately when Raidou landed in the clearing. There were two other ANBU present, one with a dog mask and silver hair that Genma recognized immediately as Kakashi’s father, and a woman with long red hair and a fox mask who covered her heart with a hand in an open display of relief.

“Are you alright?” Minato asked, stopping in front of Raidou. Genma had yet to be lowered to his feet, and didn’t really have the energy to fight his way out of Raidou’s firm hold.

“My leg and my shoulder are fucked,” he said blandly. “My pride is also not doing so well.”

Ibiki laughed. Genma wished the older teen could see his glare.

“It could have been so much worse,” Minato said in a way he must have thought was soothing. “We’ll get you back and get you fixed up in no time.”

Sakumo stepped forward, nodding his head at Raidou. “I can take him the rest of the way.”

Raidou adjusted his hold on Genma’s legs, hands flexing against his thighs. “I’ve got him. If there’s an attack, your hands will be of more use than mine.”

There was a long, weighted pause before Sakumo nodded his ascent. He lifted a hand, making the gesture for “move out” and they were all in the trees again, heading for Konoha. Genma noticed that the adult shinobi had fanned out around them, forming a barrier on all sides. That comfort, combined with the warmth radiating from Raidou’s back, was enough to lull Genma’s exhausted mind to sleep.

\---

As soon as they set foot past the village gates and into T&I headquarters, Raidou and Genma were flocked by a swarm of Genma’s friends. The rest of the adults had already dispersed when Raidou promised to get Genma to medical as soon as he changed back into his civilian clothes.

Rin led the charge, openly distressed as she reached out for him. “Is he hurt? I can help if he’s hurt,” she said frantically. Obito was behind her, concern clearly written on his face. The tomoe of his Sharingan spun rapidly as he assessed Genma, likely looking for injuries as well. Gai was weeping big, silent tears, biting onto his fist in his anguish as Ebisu awkwardly attempted to sooth him. Kakashi was behind Obito, his sharp eyes were boring into Genma’s mask.

“Easy,” Raidou said. “Let me put him down, okay?”

They backed off and Raidou led the way into the pre-ANBU locker room. They waited fretfully as Raidou lowered him onto one of the cots in the back, and as soon as he stepped away, Rin was right back at his side, her glowing hands already finding his shoulder.

“Rin, easy,” Genma grunted, wincing a bit at the sudden flood of foreign chakra. He pulled off his mask at last, taking a deep breath of uninhibited air.

“I could feel the pain radiating off of your shoulder from across the room,” Rin hiccuped, tears rolling down her face. “So hush and let me work.”

Genma blinked at her, eyes widening a bit at the display. Gai crying was one thing, but Rin rarely expressed anything but joy and friendly annoyance. He looked past her at Obito, who was still staring at him with those unnerving red eyes, and then at Kakashi, who had moved in closer once Genma was settled. “What is this?” Genma said, directing the question at Kakashi.

Kakashi looked at him with somber eyes, one hand resting lightly on his good ankle. “We were here when your team came back for help. They wouldn’t tell us what was going on,” he said quietly. “Chichi told me that you were lost and that they were going to find you. Minato-san and Ibiki-senpai were banged up when they came back for help, so we could only assume…”

“They wouldn’t let any of us come help,” Obito said stiffly. Rin wiped her tears away against her shoulder, hands still determinedly at work on Genma’s arm. “Not even Kakashi, with his nose. I tried to tell them Kakashi would find you fastest, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“Raidou-kun was here when they came, and he heard us arguing with Shikaku-taichou. He volunteered to go.” Genma wondered if Kakashi realized how tight his grip had gotten on his ankle, but it didn’t hurt, so Genma didn’t bother to mention it. “Since he’s older, and not really your friend, they let him.”

“We were scared,” Ebisu said at last, stiff voice for once soft.

“So Scared!” Gai exploded, manful tears turning into expressive sobs. “We couldn’t imagine! For you to be taken from us in the Springtime of our Youth! All of your Youthful Endeavors-”

“Gai,” Genma interjected wearily. “Please, tone it down. You’re giving me a headache.” Gai’s jaw immediately clicked shut, face collapsing as a fresh wave of tears poured down his cheeks. Genma sighed, and added, “I’m alright, stop worrying.”

“He’s been through a lot.” Genma looked up when Raidou spoke, surprised to see that he had removed his uniform and replaced it with casual grey pants and a pale orange jinbei, open a little deeper over his chest than a traditional shirt might usually be. He met Genma’s eyes, gaze steady. “I’m sure he’d like to rest.”

“I’m okay,” Genma said immediately. “They don’t need to leave.”

Raidou’s eyes twinkled, amused. “I didn’t say that. But your injuries might be a little too severe for Rin-chan.”

“They aren’t,” Rin said stubbornly. Genma flexed his right hand and noticed that she’d already done _something_ , the numbness fading and the burning barely noticeable.

“Alright,” Raidou said simply. He took a seat on a nearby bench, stretching out his legs. “I’ll just hang around and make sure.”

Genma couldn’t help sneaking glances at him over the next hour while Rin healed him, cataloguing all the changes he had missed since he had last let himself look.

\---

Genma was back at school the following day, carefully making sure he didn’t limp on his still-tender ankle. It had taken him all morning to shake off his concerned friends, only managing to convince them that everything was fine over lunch beneath the bleachers by the track field. Just two weeks into their high school careers, Genma had found the spot while waiting for Gai to finish track practice, and since, they had taken to spending lunch or any free period in the private shade.

Though he’d managed to convince his friends that he was fine, he felt far from it. He wasn’t too concerned about his ankle, since it wasn’t the first time he’d sprained it, but his shoulder bothered him. He knew it was nearly mended after Rin’s careful work, but he kept flexing his hand and the muscles of his arm, just to make sure it hadn’t gone dead and useless against his side again. And he was exhausted on top of that. Every time he had begun to doze off the night before, he thought he could hear the soft, mocking clicking of a cat call from his pursuer, and jerked awake again and again.

But he would get past it. He was fine. Scenarios like that were exactly what he’d been training for since he was a child, and one bad experience wasn’t going to be enough to break him. He’d be fine.

\---

It was nice to be at the same school as Raidou again. He didn’t have to go out of his way to find him anymore, instead casually monitoring him in the hallways or making a point to use the restroom during his study block to peek in on him in the library. He got to relearn Raidou’s mannerisms, noticing that even though he had seemed graceful in uniform, in his day-to-day life he was still prone to clumsiness, often bumping into walls when walking or tripping over his own feet when distracted.

He’d also gotten even taller. Genma’s recent growth spurt had closed that gap a bit, but if he had to guess from his own meager height of 5’4”, Raidou was almost 5’10” and likely wasn’t finished growing yet. Thinking about it made Genma’s palms sweaty, so he tried to just catalogue it as another little Raidou fact, and move on. Much like the fact that, recently, instead of plain, dark t-shirts, Raidou had taken to wearing traditional inspired street wear that tended to bare his arms and dip scandalously low on his chest. It wasn’t like you could actually see anything, but there was a suggestion there that-

Well. Genma ignored all that, too.

Raidou’s birthday was the week after Genma’s disastrous mission. He turned sixteen, once again making him two years Genma’s senior. Genma hated it, hated that it somehow put Raidou even further out of his grasp of- friendship. Or whatever it was Genma cared about. He couldn’t quite put words to it, he just knew that each obstacle between them was growing more and more frustrating.

Genma found him in the library. The night before he had practiced saying “happy birthday” in the mirror, quietly, so his father wouldn’t hear it from down the hall. He approached him the way he’d practiced, hands in his pockets casually, tongue pressed against his toothpick in the way that made his jaw clench and made the little bit of baby-fat still clinging to his jaw disappear. Head back at an angle that looked maybe dismissive, maybe intrigued. But when he stopped by the table, and opened his mouth, instead he said, “I want to fight you.”

Raidou looked up from his book, brow arching. His cheek was cradled in his hand, and he looked a little bit like he had been close to sleep, eyes hooded. “Huh?”

Genma blinked at him slowly, internally screaming at himself. That hadn’t been how he had practiced at all, but he supposed it was too late to go back now. “I want to fight you,” he repeated, digging his hands deeper into his pockets as he shrugged.

“Like right now?” Raidou’s other eyebrow joined the first, and he sat up.

“No.” Genma leaned his hip against the table, and tried not to feel too awkward. He never felt this way, he never had to try this hard, except around Raidou. “Last week, you were, ah. Impressive. You’re good now.”

“And I wasn’t before.” Raidou’s lips were pressed together like he was trying very hard not to smile.

“No,” Genma said bluntly. He rolled his toothpick between his teeth and wondered if he was actually managing to conceal his blush, or if the heat he could feet in his chest and throat was visible at the collar of his v-neck.

Raidou crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, staring up at him. “Think you’ll actually try this time?”

“I tried last time.” He rolled his eyes and looked away, resisting the urge to cross his arms too. “I _tried_ to let you win.”

“This time, I want you to really fight me.”

Genma looked at him again, blinking at his extended hand. He reached out to clasp arms with him, firmly gripping his forearm. “I will,” he promised.

“We’ll see.” Raidou’s fingers wrapped all the way around his arm, grip sure. “This afternoon?” When Genma nodded, Raidou gave him an assessing look. “All healed, right?”

“Yeah,” Genma said, and winced internally at his breathless tone. “So don’t think those will be my handicaps.”

“I would never.” Raidou huffed a laugh and let him go. Genma tucked his hand back into his pocket, the skin Raidou had touched buzzing in a distracting way. “Training ground six?”

Genma nodded and turned to walk away, before pausing. “Ah, uh. Happy birthday, Raidou-senpai.”

“Raidou is fine.” He grinned at him, and Genma knew for sure he was blushing now. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Genma muttered, and did his best not to body flicker out of the library. Embarrassment would be a very stupid reason to out himself as a shinobi, after all.

\---

“You did _what_?” Ebisu was staring at him like he had two heads, which was kind of hilarious. Genma just took another bite of his lunch, gazing mildly at him. “You asked Raidou- _senpai_ to fight you? On his birthday? After he _saved your life_?”

“And?” Genma arched a brow.

“You have no sense of propriety.” Ebisu shook his head, arms crossing. “And no respect.”

“I wouldn’t fight him if I didn’t respect him.” Genma picked up his water bottle, taking a sip.

“Ah, yes,” Kakashi drawled. He was laying back against his bag a few paces away, already finished with his lunch. “Respect is all you feel for Raidou.”

“I’m glad we agree.” Genma cut him a look, annoyed to see that Kakashi hadn’t even glanced away from his book.

“Yes, anything else would be quite unseemly.” He turned a page with his thumb and Genma idly wondered if stabbing him would violate shinobi code.

\---

Genma changed in the pre-enlistment locker room before heading to field six. He had taken the time to actually wrap both ankles, reinforcing them just in case, and the only thing that remained of his civilian clothes was his choker. Parting with it today felt strangely revealing, so he left it and his toothpick firmly in place.

Raidou was already there when Genma arrived. He was in his training clothes too, perched atop one of the sparring posts. He was balanced on one foot in tree pose. He didn’t sway an inch, body steady and grounded. Genma stared from his perch in the trees, surprised. He had never seen Raidou manage that kind of grace before. Usually if an exercise had called for balance, Raidou was the first to sway and fall. What had he been up to in the last year?

“You can come out,” Raidou called, and Genma cursed at being caught. He leapt from his branch to land on the post beside Raidou’s. Raidou opened one eye to look down at him, lips twitching. “Hello.”

“Hey.” He braced his elbow against his knee and rested his chin in his hand, crouched in the picture of casual nonchalance. He hoped.

Raidou switched from one foot to the other in a quick hop that Genma almost missed, his eye dropping closed again serenely. He didn’t even waver, even though now he was on his left foot, the one that had always been shaky. “Aren’t you going to warm up?”

“I don’t need to.”

“Humour me.”

Genma rolled his eyes and dropped to the ground. “I meant that I already had,” he mumbled, but he stretched obediently, keeping his back to Raidou to avoid staring at him the whole time. When nearly fifteen minutes had passed, he turned to see that Raidou was still balanced at the top of that damn post, one foot planted and the other out at a perfect right angle, not a muscle on his body quivering. 

“When did you learn to do that?” Genma shielded his eyes against the sun, staring up at him. Raidou opened both eyes this time, and stepped off of the post, and straight down to the ground with a practiced ease, landing just a few feet from Genma.

Genma’s stomach flipped, and he ignored it.

“Do you know what kenjutsu is?”

“The study of sword technique,” Genma said automatically. “Most common in Kirigakure and the Land of Iron.”

Raidou huffed a laugh and nodded. “Yeah, that. Well. I got scouted by a kenjutsu trainer, so I’ve had my lessons with her one-on-one for the past year.” He gestured back at the post. “It’s a lot of that. I’ve gotten pretty good, huh?”

“You’re better,” Genma said simply, unwilling to outright flatter him. “Are you ready to spar now?”

“Sure.” He shrugged, lifting his hand to make the opening seal. “Should we make a wager?”

“Do you often wager on your fight outcomes?” Genma lifted his hand too, attention caught for just a moment on Raidou’s rings before he met his eyes again.

“A bit more often now that I win some of them. What do you say?” He kept his hand up, not moving to initiate the fight yet.

“What are your terms?”

“Loser buys ramen for the winner.” Raidou arched a brow.

Genma thought of his nearly empty wallet, his meager mission earnings already funneled back into his household. “Deal,” he said after a moment. He would just have to win.

“Good.” Raidou nodded and dropped his hand, shifting into a defensive pose. Genma mimicked him with the same stance and slowly stepped to the left, forcing Raidou immediately to do the same as they circled each other. When Raidou switched to a different stance, Genma mirrored him, biding his time as he examined his opponent.

His left leg was certainly no longer a weak spot. He moved just as confidently on it as he did on his right. His footwork was tighter, no longer sloppy or likely to tangle and trip. It was a stark difference to the day-to-day clumsiness Genma still observed, and he wondered how Raidou separated those two parts of himself. He no longer had glaring openings in his defense, either. This fight was going to be significantly harder than their last. He was still calculating his approach when Raidou spoke again.

“Are you waiting for me to make the first move?”

“Since it’s your birthday, I thought I might as well give you a chance,” Genma said automatically, eyes snapping back to his face. Raidou laughed, and Genma smirked to himself.

“You’re cocky.”

“I’m good,” he corrected.

Raidou laughed again and finally struck. He was much faster now, too, and his strikes still jarred Genma’s bones where he blocked them. He wasn’t so fast that there wasn’t room for Genma to strike back, but Raidou could read him now, and was dodging and blocking Genma’s strikes with ease. Neither of them could land more than a grazing hit.

They jumped apart and began circling each other again, both panting. Genma advanced this time, taking his first shot at Raidou’s right leg; he’d likely been focusing on his left, potentially switching his weakness. No such luck, of course; Raidou caught his kick rather than dodging like Genma had expected, and tugged him forward and off balanced. Genma let himself fall, spinning on his back in the grass and back into a crouch. Raidou immediately pushed his advantage, raining blows over his head quickly so that he couldn’t stand up again. Genma used his previous tactic against him, grabbing one of his arms and using Raidou’s own mass to sling him over his shoulder. Raidou grabbed the back of his shirt as he flew over him, dragging him back onto the ground beside him with a heavy thud.

In actual combat, that would have been a dangerous move. Raidou could have used the momentum to gain distance and regroup. Instead, Genma found himself locked in a grappling match and quickly losing the advantage. Raidou was just bigger than him, that was all, and this was street fighting that most shinobi would never resort to in action.

Genma tried to remember this when he lost, both arms pinned to the ground beside his head and his hips anchored firmly beneath the press of Raidou’s firm knee. They were both panting, and Genma could see four long welts rising on Raidou’s neck where he had unintentionally clawed the older boy in his desperate struggle to get away and back to his feet.

Raidou was grinning down at him, unmoving even when Genma relaxed into the ground and tried to focus on catching his breath. It was harder than he’d like it to be, with Raidou hovering above him.

“Do you yield?” Raidou asked, tone faintly teasing.

“Obviously.” Genma blinked slowly up at him, pushing his arms up against Raidou’s grip, only to have them pinned firmly to the grass again. “See?”

“Did you pull your punches this time?”

“Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Probably not.” His grin widened.

“Are you going to let _me_ go?” Genma flexed his arms again, though he really wasn’t in that much of a hurry to move. He’d never gotten to look at Raidou from quite this close, and as such, this was the first time he’d noticed that his dark eyes weren’t quite black, but actually a deep chocolate brown. It was very- interesting.

“Now that you’ve admitted defeat.” Raidou released him and pushed himself to his feet, extending a hand to Genma. Genma grasped it and let himself be tugged upright. Raidou hooked their pointer and middle fingers to officially end the match. “How about dinner?”

\---

They changed back into their civilian clothes before heading to Ichiraku. Genma felt wrong-footed, walking beside Raidou down the street. In all his observation of the older boy, he’d never quite expected them to stand together as friends. It made him quiet and unsure, which he carefully passed off as aloofness.

It was easy, since Raidou was a rather quiet person too. He seemed content to walk in silence, only opening his mouth to say “excuse me” when he accidentally bumped into (and almost knocked over) a woman they passed on the street.

When they arrived, there were two patrons already seated at the counter, though they were sharing a stool. Genma looked at them curiously; one was a boy a bit younger than him, with dark hair pulled into a high pony-tail and a long scar across his nose. The one in his lap was barely a toddler, with cornsilk blond hair and large, inquisitive blue eyes. The older boy was carefully attempting to feed him a spoonful of broth, though he only seemed interested in grabbing at the bamboo shoot floating in the pro-offered serving.

“Naruto-kun, please,” the boy whispered, shooting a quick look at Genma and Raidou as they took a seat. He seemed to turn bright red at the sight of them, and quickly looked back at what must be his little brother, for all they looked nothing alike. “This is for eating.”

Genma tuned them out, sliding into a stool against the opposite end of the bar. Raidou sat beside him, immediately pulling forward a small menu stand. “Let’s see,” he said thoughtfully. “Since it’s my birthday, I suppose I should treat myself. Or rather, you should treat me.”

Genma patted his wallet pocket consolingly. If he didn’t have enough to cover it, maybe he could play it off with old Teuchi and return to work off his debt without Raidou noticing. “Get whatever you like,” he said quietly. “You won fair and square.”

“I did, didn’t I?” he mused.

Teuchi’s daughter, Ayame, stepped over to greet them with a broad smile. “Hello, Raidou-kun, Genma-kun! What can I get for you today?”

“Just miso ramen,” Genma said with a lazy smirk. “Hello, Ayame-chan.”

“I’ll take the large special.” Raidou flashed her a grin, and Genma noticed the way it made her blush. He filed away the quiet jealousy the interaction sparked for later inspection.

When she walked away, Genma was still unsure what to say. He didn’t know how to speak to Raidou, since they certainly weren’t friends. He was nervous that if he spoke, he would accidentally reveal something he ought not know, but that he had observed over the years. He usually wouldn’t worry about that type of slip-up, but he’d noticed that being around Raidou made him clumsy too, but with his words rather than his actions.

Raidou was the one to break the silence. “Your friends are very bold,” he said quietly. Genma glanced over, then back down at his hands.

“What makes you say that?”

“I’ve never known anyone else to cause a ruckus like that. They legitimately yelled at Shikaku-san.” He was keeping his voice low, words almost drowned out by the noise of the kitchen across the bar. And he was being purposefully vague.

Genma shifted to relax back against the wall beside him, turning his toothpick slowly between his teeth. “Let me guess who was loudest, beside Gai.” Raidou huffed a laugh, twisting a bit in his seat to face him. “Obito.”

“Rin,” Raidou corrected. “She was insistent that if you were old enough to go, they were old enough to follow.” A pause. “Of course, they were shot down for being too emotional.”

“They’re all too emotional.”

They both went quiet when their food was delivered. Genma’s bowl was a fair bit smaller than Raidou’s, and he discreetly eyed the fat slices of pork in Raidou’s bowl with envy. He cracked open his chopsticks, swirling them into his noodles without complaint.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little emotional.” Raidou took a bite and made a satisfied sound.

“There’s no place for emotion outside of Konoha.” Genma chopped his egg into quarters with concise pinches of his chopsticks.

“If that were true, I suppose I wouldn’t have intervened when I found you.”

Genma cut him a look, setting his toothpick carefully across the top of his water cup so he could eat. “You don’t know me.”

“And yet.” Raidou reached over, dropping a piece of pork cutlet on top of Genma’s noodles. “I risked my life.”

“That’s duty.”

“Duty is where logic and emotion meet,” Raidou said simply. “Eat your food.”

Genma stared at him for a long moment, watching him tuck into his own bowl. It took him a few moments to drag his eyes away and turn to his own plate. He saved his slice of pork for last, and savoured each small bite.

Raidou paid for their meal before Genma could even pull his wallet from his pocket.

\---

Genma hadn’t realized that challenging Raidou once meant that they now had a standing engagement each Monday for a rematch. But apparently they did, because Raidou found him the next week under the bleachers with his friends after the final classes were released.

It was just Genma, Kakashi, and Obito today, who had all decided that they didn’t feel like training, and thus were going to hide out and deal with the consequences tomorrow. Raidou poked his head under the bleachers, waving a hand at them.

“Rin told me you’d be here.”

“Your girlfriend is a traitor, Obito,” Kakashi said mildly, but didn’t move from where he was fully sprawled on his back in the grass. Obito flicked his cheek hard enough to make him hiss and reach out a lazy hand to flick his knee in return.

Genma snorted at them and looked back at Raidou. “What do you want?”

“Rematch.” Raidou walked a little closer, thumbs hooked into his belt loops. Genma resolutely didn’t stare, keeping his eyes on his face.

“You know the loser is the one that’s supposed to issue a rematch, right?”

Raidou made a thoughtful sound. “Is that right? How embarrassing for me. Are you turning me down?”

“No.” Genma pushed himself to his feet, dragging his backpack over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Genma, wait! I thought we were hanging out.” Obito pouted. “You’re gonna leave me all alone with Kakashi?”

“You guys could always go train,” Raidou said casually.

Obito went tomato-red, waving his hands. “Oh, no, no! It’s fine!”

“See you.” Genma waved at them vaguely, nudging Raidou with his elbow as he passed him. “Come on.”

Genma won their match that afternoon. He managed to redirect one of Raidou’s punches, and when his back was turned, tackled him to the ground. Taking Raidou down was sheer luck, and Genma thought it was a bit of a stretch to say Raidou couldn’t have thrown him off. He bragged the entire walk to dinner anyway.

\---

They continued their weekly sparring through the fall, and after a few weeks Genma managed to relax enough to actually enjoy their afternoons together. It was nice to have the chance to study him up close. He noticed now how Raidou had a habit of playing with his fingers when he was agitated, often twisting his rings on and off. And sometimes he didn’t wear his black bands, but chunky silver pieces that were clearly fashion over function. He didn’t smile often, unless it was to express mild amusement. His true smile was rare, something that only seemed to crop up when Genma least expected it.

Raidou was easier to talk to than he had expected him to be, too. Even though he was a class ahead of him and nearly two years older, Raidou spoke to him as if he considered him an equal. He was blunt even in metaphor, which Genma greatly appreciated. He found that they could talk about almost anything without actually stating anything outright, a talent only Kakashi could rival.

But even more so, he found that he enjoyed speaking frankly with Raidou when they were away from prying ears. In late October, he said, “I thought you were weak. You couldn’t win a fight. I pitied you, before.”

“I know,” Raidou said simply. They were sitting side-by-side in a high tree branch, sipping tea from a shared canteen and watching the city from just out of view. “You tried to let me win because you felt sorry for me, when anyone watching could see you were leagues ahead of me.”

“I was tired of watching you lose.”

“Beating you then would have been more pathetic than losing.”

It was quiet for a while, before Genma said, “I’ve just been training for longer. My mom died when I was seven and for a while, the doctors couldn’t figure out why I had constant headaches and couldn’t stay awake. They thought I was grieving. When a shinobi medic checked me over, it turned out I was burning massive amounts of chakra unknowingly and I had been chakra depleted for almost a year. They got permission from my dad to let me enroll in the training program, and I’ve been better since.”

“I wouldn’t have enrolled if my family hadn’t been attacked. I thought I was too weak to do any of this stuff. When they told me I could be a ninja, my parents laughed at the idea.” A pause. “It pissed me off, so I said I’d do it.”

“Well.” Genma took a sip of tea. “You’re doing alright now.”

“I think our record shows I’m doing better than you.”

“You sound like Gai. Are you going to call me your eternal rival next?”

“If the shoe fits.” One of those rare, true smiles twisted his face.

In January Genma joined the soccer club, a recommendation from the Frog to help him sharpen his agility and action responses. It did just that, and it had the added bonus of being incredibly fun. Raidou came to all of his games and sat with his friends - _their_ friends - in the stands and cheered him on. Every time he heard Raidou shout, he pushed himself harder, eager to earn his praise. Raidou never failed to seek him out when the game was over, and pointedly complimented impressive footwork or a skillful pass.

On one such night, they outlasted the rest of their friends and escaped to the trees again, as was becoming their routine. The air was still brisk with winter, and it made Genma shiver when he asked, “Do you have nightmares?”

“From missions?” Raidou glanced over. His heavy coat was zipped up over his throat, and his hair was messier than usual from the wind.

“Yeah.”

“Mm… not too many.” He looked back down over the moon-dappled trees. “I’ve only been on a handful of missions, and none of them have included much combat. The closest I got was with your missing nin, and I got a lucky strike before we could really get into it. If she hadn’t believed that my blade was poison, I don’t know that I would have walked away.”

“I have nightmares about her,” Genma admitted. “I can hear that clicking sound she made to mock me, pretending to summon me like an animal. It was a stupid scare tactic.”

“But it worked.”

“It did.”

Raidou didn’t apologize, or try to soothe him, and Genma had known he wouldn’t. That’s why he felt safe telling him. He knew that Raidou would understand that he wasn’t telling him for his pity; he just needed someone to know.

\---

Genma had his first kiss when he was fifteen. 

It was mid-summer, and he and Kakashi had spent the day training in the garden with Kakashi’s father. They were both exhausted, sprawled together on Kakashi’s bedroom floor post-shower, in nothing but their underwear as they tried to fight off the uncharacteristically heavy heat of the day.

“I’m definitely going to use that new kick combo on Raidou next week,” Genma mused, staring up at the ceiling. “He’s still not as good at countering kicks, and he’ll never see that half-spin feint coming.”

Kakashi was suddenly leaning over him, a fair brow arched. It was still a bit odd to see him without a mask, especially to watch how expressive his uncovered mouth could be. For instance, at the moment, he had a knowing smirk.

“What,” he said, flat, not bothering to move.

“Raidou, Raidou, Raidou,” Kakashi drawled. “Are you still able to talk about anything else?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He rolled his eyes and looked past Kakashi’s unruly hair.

“Are you being purposefully obtuse, or are you an idiot?”

“Watch it,” he warned, eyes snapping back to Kakashi’s.

Kakashi gave him an appraising look. “You really don’t know what I mean.”

“No, Kakashi. I really don’t.”

Kakashi hummed, eyes moving up to the ceiling thoughtfully. “You really don’t..” He looked back down at him. “You don’t see that you have feelings for him?”

Genma eyes widened, shocked. “What are you _talking_ about?”

“You and Raidou. And how you’ve had feelings for him since we were children.”

Genma lifted a hand to shove Kakashi’s shoulder, trying to push him out of the way. Kakashi didn’t budge. “Shut up.” Of course he didn’t have feelings for Raidou. He would know if he did.

“What? Do you have feelings for someone else?”

“Do _you_?” Genma snapped, glowering up at him. 

“No one in particular at the moment,” Kakashi mused seriously. “I did think Tobirama-sensei was quite fetching until Rin said he looked like my dad. Before that, I thought about Inuzuka Hana fairly often, but I think I was mixing up my fascination with her clan ninken with actual attraction.”

Genma stopped trying to push him away, staring up at him incredulously “Tobirama-sensei? He’s old.”

“I would defend myself if it weren’t for the dad thing. Though I will still say that he has very attractive eyes.” Kakashi’s smirk was firmly back in place. “Have you never had a crush, Genma?”

Genma blinked up at him slowly, mouth going a little slack in surprise. “I’ve honestly never thought about it.”

“Never? Hm.” Kakashi plucked Genma’s toothpick from between his parted lips. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

“I’ve- honestly never thought about it,” he repeated. He glanced at Kakashi’s mouth, reeling back a little bit when he realized that, _oh._ Kakashi was offering. “Do you like me, then?”

Kakashi shook his head, looking away to set the toothpick on the floor. He looked back, hand lifting to cup Genma’s cheek gently. “No. But I do like kissing. If you wanted to try.”

“Yeah,” Genma said slowly, eyes trailing back to Kakashi’s mouth. “I should give that a try, right?”

“Right,” Kakashi agreed. He dipped his head down, their lips almost touching. “But feel free to think of someone else.” Kakashi sealed their lips together lightly in a dry, careful kiss. He pulled back just a hair to breath, and Genma lifted a hand tentatively to his shoulder.

“Who would I think of?” he mumbled, shivering when the motion made their lips brush.

“You know who,” Kakashi chastised mildly, and kissed him again. This time he didn’t pull back, gently brushing his tongue against the seam of Genma’s lips.

Genma barely understood the mechanics of kissing, so he did his best to follow Kakashi’s lead. It was odd, kissing, and seemed more irksome than enjoyable. Maybe it was because he didn’t have any particular attraction to Kakashi. It wasn’t that Genma thought he was ugly. He knew that Kakashi was attractive. He’d just never really thought about it at all.

He gave in to the mechanics of the kiss, finding little thrills of pleasure when Kakashi kissed him in certain ways, mimicking the motion to try and share his pleasure in return. It wasn’t until he fell comfortably into the rhythm of the kiss that he let his mind wander. If he didn’t favor Kakashi, then who? Maybe he preferred women. He tried thinking of Rin, and immediately skittered away from the thought, feeling awkwardly as if he was betraying Obito. He then thought of Obito, and it felt the same.

Kurenai, maybe? She was a year younger than them, and seemed a bit awkward and unsure of herself, by Genma’s estimate. But she did have lovely eyes, and her hair looked like it would be soft to the touch. Genma brushed his fingers lightly through Kakashi’s hair and tried to pretend that it was hers, and felt nothing. He thought of Gai and nearly had to wrench himself away in horror, then of Ebisu, which was taxing even conceptually. He wondered if Ebisu would try to correct his kissing form the way he corrected his sparring form.

The thought of sparring brought him to Raidou, and he recoiled from the thought instinctively, focusing in again on the fact that it was Kakashi he was kissing, with his long, unruly hair and scarred lips. Not Raidou. Kakashi was too small to be Raidou, anyway. If it were Raidou kissing him, his body would nearly eclipse Genma’s. His hands would be bigger too, broad where Kakashi was fine-boned.

Genma shifted slightly, slowly wrapping his arm around Kakashi’s shoulders. Raidou wouldn’t be so yielding as Kakashi, either. He would be considerate, but where Kakashi was malleable and lazy, Raidou was determined. He would be methodical about kissing, Genma imagined, approaching it like a puzzle to unscramble. And maybe he would smile when he thought he’d solved it, and kiss Genma in just the way he liked-

Kakashi chose the exact wrong - or maybe right - moment to gently nip at Genma’s lips. Genma surged up with a shocked little sound, arms tightening around Kakashi and dragging him closer. He kissed with a little more fervor, losing himself in the thought of _if-this-was-Raidou-he-would._

He had to pull back to breathe, and when he opened his eyes to look up at Kakashi, he slumped back to the floor. He hadn’t noticed that he had arched away from the ground. He turned his head, panting, sure that his face was flushed and not really caring.

“Did you think about me?” Kakashi whispered, teasing, and Genma shoved him away with a stiff arm. Graciously, Kakashi allowed it.

\---

He kissed Kakashi fairly often after that, whenever they were alone together and bored. He tried not to think of Raidou again, instead finding ways to enjoy kissing his friend. It wasn’t hard; Kakashi was a good kisser, and Genma was too comfortable with him to feel self-conscious.

As much as he avoided thinking of Raidou when he and Kakashi were intimate, he couldn’t avoid thinking about him the rest of the time. Their once a week sparring had turned into thrice-weekly hang-outs at the very least. If he didn’t count school, Genma easily spent more time with him than with anyone other than Gai (who he’d begun running with him every morning) and his father.

Genma knew how people perceived him, because he had carefully cultivated his presentation. He wanted people to look at him and see calm confidence, aloofness, and charm. All of it was true, to a certain extent. He was a very calm person, because in order to calculate a response to a situation, you needed to be calm. He was confident in his own abilities, because he had worked hard to be good in his classes, both academic and athletic. It didn’t hurt that he was conventionally attractive. People found him charming even when he wasn't trying.

Though people expected him to be a bit of a young Lothario, attraction and romance had never been something Genma thought about. Since he began training, his sole focus had been his duty. He knew very well how closely service to Konoha was tied with death. The idea of having someone emotionally dependent on him, or worse - someone _he_ was emotionally dependent on, seemed like an exercise in futility. Even the relationship between Obito and Rin made little sense to him.

But he couldn’t deny his attraction to Raidou anymore. What he’d tentatively thought of as some sort of experiment turned hero worship, was very clearly a _crush_ that he’d been unknowingly nurturing for the last four years. Well, it had been unknown to him. Clearly Kakashi had put the pieces together, and Rin seemed to have realized too. Luckily, neither of them would tell a soul, so his secret was safe for now.

The idea of mentioning it to Raidou was completely off the table. Every once and awhile, Kakashi would push the subject and Genma immediately shut it down. To admit to having feelings for Raidou would mean needing to admit that he had feelings in general, and that was the edge of a very slippery slope.

On top of that, if Raidou had feelings in return, it was highly unlikely that he would have withheld them. Raidou didn’t mince words the way he did; he stated his feelings directly, be it anger or happiness. And Genma had seen Raidou flirt with women often enough that he was also relatively sure that his tastes leaned towards the fairer sex. And women were obviously interested in him, too. Genma had made a game out of flirting with women when he was around Raidou, often seeing how far he could push it before Raidou grabbed him by the scruff and reminded him of his manners.

Genma had calculated the risks of admitting his feelings, and his conclusion was that to do so would be a detriment to their friendship. And these days, without Raidou as his friend, he didn’t know if life would be much worth living.

\---

When Genma turned sixteen, he quietly submitted an application to the Hokage’s office for independent housing. He didn’t mention it to a soul. As most bureaucratic things tended to, it took some time for a response. He celebrated his birthday in late July, and didn’t receive a response until September. The response came in the form of a summons to Tobirama-sensei’s classroom one afternoon. It was a Monday, so sadly Genma had to excuse himself from his sparring session with Raidou to meet him.

When Genma arrived, Tobirama was alone. He was sorting through several stacks of paperwork at his desk, a pair of reading glasses on his nose. For being over fifty, he was a very fit man, without a trace of excess body weight and refined posture that betrayed his battle experience to the perceptive eye. Genma could understand why Kakashi had been attracted to him.

“Tobirama-sensei,” he greeted, stepping through the door. “Is now a good time?”

“Genma.” Tobirama glanced up, and took off his glasses. He tucked them into the pocket of his shirt. “It is. Come in, sit.”

Genma dropped his bag at the closest desk to the front, sitting on the desktop rather than in the chair. Tobirama moved to lean against the front of his desk as well, folding his arms across his chest. He didn’t speak, staring at Genma with shrewd, alarmingly red eyes. Genma arched a brow, chewing idly on his toothpick; his new toothpick was metal, more like a very small senbon. It had been a gift from Raidou for his birthday, part of a pack of five. Raidou had said he was worried Genma was going to swallow splinters. Genma had cheerfully told him that _he_ would never be so clumsy.

“You know my other job,” Tobirama said after another moment of silence.

“Yes, sensei.” On top of teaching several different math sections, Tobirama was highly acclaimed in ninjutsu development; many of the jutsu most popular with Genma’s generation were crafted by Tobirama. He was also an above-average sensor, which was why he had taken a job at the school. Teaching allowed him to actively scout for talent among non-clan children. Also, he was the Hokage’s only remaining baby brother.

Tobirama nodded, and reached to the side to pick up a stack of neatly clipped papers. “You submitted a housing application.”

That caught him off-guard. “Ah- yes.” Genma frowned a bit, pressing his hands deeper into his pockets.

“Why?”

“I’d rather not say,” Genma said honestly. When Tobirama said nothing else and continued casually flipping through the papers in his hands, Genma continued. “My father and I don’t have a good relationship. I don’t enjoy living with him, and he doesn’t enjoy living with me.”

“You asked him what he thought of you moving out?” He flipped a page, shifting to cross his ankles.

“No. It’s not his decision.”

“You’re still a minor.” Tobirama’s eyes lifted from the page. “To let you have housing, we would need consent from your guardian or due cause to remove you from his home.”

“He would sign off on it. I just didn’t ask.”

His eyes returned to the paper and he made a thoughtful noise. “Generally, in order to live in shinobi housing, you would be required to do a certain number of missions to earn your keep. Again, you’re a minor.”

“I’ve gone on missions,” Genma pointed out. He tried to push away the slowly building dread in his stomach. He’d known that it was a longshot, but he’d still hoped. The thought of having his own space had been uplifting.

“You’ve completed one C-rank and three D-rank missions. Most living in subsidized housing complete at least one mission per week, usually at least C-rank, often extending over several days. You’re in school, Genma, and it would be a disservice to you to jeopardize your education.” He set the papers aside again, looking up at him. “Again. To let you have housing, we would need consent from your guardian or due cause to remove you.”

Genma let out a slow breath and tried his best not to glare at the living legend before him. “My father has seen me as a burden since my mother died. He is cold, detached, and only speaks to me when he wants my help on housework. Living with him is-” He swallowed, glancing away from that penetrating stare for just a moment. “It’s hard to live with him, sensei.”

Tobirama said nothing, watching him stoically for a few long moments that felt like they dragged on for much longer than necessary. “Would you be willing to complete one mission per month?”

“Yes,” Genma said immediately, a small flare of hope bursting in his stomach.

“We don’t like to do this, you know that. We would prefer that we never have to send an underaged person into the field.” Tobirama sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a hair. “But all of your trainers agree that you’re prepared for field work. You won’t be given anything above a C-rank, and you will only be dispatched with experienced teams. Your training will increase, and if your grades falter, you will no longer be allowed to serve.”

“I promise that it won’t be a problem.”

Tobirama lifted a quelling hand. “No. You can’t promise that.”

“Sensei-”

“But.” Tobirama dropped his hand. “We can promise that you will have a home regardless. You’re a promising young man, and we expect that you will dedicate your life to Konoha. In that same way, Konoha is dedicated to you.” He picked up the stack of papers again, holding them out. “These are your final housing forms, detailing exactly what we’ve spoken about. Your father’s signature is not required. Please read through them, sign them, and return them to the office. They’ll assign your apartment then.”

Genma stared at the papers for a long moment before taking them. “Thank you,” he said quietly, staring down at them in disbelief.

“If any problems arise in your transition, please come to me. Enjoy your afternoon.”

“I will.” He flashed Tobirama a quick smile and grabbed his bag on his way out.

“And Genma. Your additional training will be with me.”

Genma paused, glancing back at him. He had already returned to his seat at the desk, glasses on his nose. Genma couldn’t help the spark of excitement that stirred in him at the prospect of finally, finally having his own specialized training. “Yes, sensei.” When Tobirama didn’t respond, he considered himself dismissed.

\---

“No way. No _way._ ” Obito was bouncing around the room, examining every corner of Genma’s small accommodations with a wide-open mouth.

“Calm down,” Genma ordered mildly from his perch in his window. The space wasn’t much at all, just a standard twin bed, a small kitchenette, and a small table with two chairs. There was a private bathroom attached, which Genma was exceedingly grateful for. Communal showers were a pain in the ass.

“Calm _down_? You’ve got your own apartment!” Obito spun to face him, arms extended. “This is awesome!”

Genma smirked at him. “Jealous?”

“I’m so jealous!”

“I’m a little jealous,” Rin admitted. She was crouched beside his second-hand book shelf, slowly looking through his collection.

“Ah, Rin-chan, you’re welcome here anytime,” Genma drawled. He tried not to laugh at Obito’s pout.

Kakashi was already comfortably sprawled across his bed, one arm tucked beneath his head and a book over his eyes. “All this space to woo the ladies and you waste your first attempts on Rin?”

“Don’t be crass,” Ebisu sniffed. He was looking through Genma’s empty cabinets with a somewhat constipated expression. “You need to go grocery shopping.”

“Why? I’ve got plenty of ramen packets.” Genma’s smirk turned into a full-fledged leer at Ebisu’s glare.

“Just be glad Gai isn’t here.” Obito dropped into one of the kitchen chairs, stretching out his legs. “He’s gonna be so mad he took his first mission the same weekend you moved in.”

Before Genma could reply, there was a knock at the door. He slid off of his window sill to answer it, gesturing at Obito with his toothpick. “If you’ve just summoned him here, you’re cleaning up the wreckage. Or tears, whichever way it goes.” He walked down his small entryway and stepped down into his genkan to answer the door.

Raidou was standing outside, a small plant cradled in his hand. “I heard you moved,” he said by way of greeting.

Genma’s mouth went slack, toothpick barely clinging to his lips before he clenched his teeth in a grin. “Who’s been talking about me?”

“Kakashi.” He smiled back, just a small twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for, you know,” Genma drawled. He stepped out of the way. “Come in. It’s a little crowded.”

“Here.” Raidou passed over the plant, which on closer inspection appeared to be a small green cactus with purple needles. “House warming.”

Genma held it up for closer inspection as he closed the door. “Thanks?”

“It’s so you have someone to come home to.” Raidou toed off his shoes, nudging them into a neat row beside Genma’s shoes.

“Thank you,” he said again, and tried not to let himself smile too fondly as he led the way inside.

“Raidou!” Obito had his head tilted back over the back of the chair, grinning around the stick of a lollipop. “Check this place out, isn’t it cool?”

“It’s nice,” Raidou agreed. Genma didn’t look at him, oddly nervous to see him inspect his new home. Instead, he focused on positioning his new plant on his bedside table and on avoiding Kakashi’s eyes.

\---

It was already past dinner when they’d arrived to visit, so his friends didn’t stay long. Raidou was the last one left, and when Genma returned from walking Ebisu out (he’d had to promise that yes, he would go buy at least one vegetable the next day), he said, “I brought one more housewarming gift.”

“You know that this isn’t a house, and you’re the only one who brought me one gift, much less two, right?” Genma leaned his hip against his kitchen table, crossing his arms. Raidou was sprawled in one of the kitchen chairs, looking up at Genma mildly.

“So you don’t want your gift.”

“I didn’t say that.” He smirked down at him and held out a hand beseechingly. Raidou rolled his eyes and pulled a very small scroll from his pocket. “Did you get me a summons?”

“You know that-” Raidou paused mid-correction when he caught the look on Genma’s face. “It’s what’s in the scroll, brat.”

Genma just wiggled his fingers again.

Raidou shook his head and unrolled the scroll. He pressed his thumb to the center of the first seal circle, and in a small puff appeared a sealed bottle of sake. Genma blinked and reached for it, only to have Raidou snatch it away quickly. “We’re sharing,” he said simply. He completely lost any cool points when he stood, half-tripping when one of his ankles got tangled around the leg of his chair.

“How many have you had already?” Genma teased. “Maybe I should cut you off.”

“Shut up.” Raidou bumped shoulders with him companionably as he passed into the kitchenette, searching through the cupboards. “Ebisu was right, you barely even have dishes in here.”

“I’m a young bachelor.” Genma slid himself onto the table to sit, watching Raidou search. He ended up pulling out Genma’s only two small, decorative tea cups and a small pot. He set the cups aside and filled the pot with water before putting it on Genma’s hot plate to heat. “What are you doing?”

“It’s cold out and this is shitty sake, anyway.” Raidou shrugged, leaning down to make sure the hot plate was actually on. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting an apartment?”

“It didn’t come up,” Genma said. It was a half-truth. It hadn’t come up, because Genma hadn’t brought it up, and Genma hadn’t brought it up because he didn’t want Raidou to poke into why he wanted to move. The rest of Genma’s friends knew about his terse living situation, and although Raidou knew he and his dad didn’t get along, he had never told him the full extent of it. From the look Raidou shot him over his shoulder, he knew that answer didn’t cut it. 

Genma responded by hopping off the table. “Bathroom,” he said, and escaped.

By the time he came back, Raidou was carefully wrapping the now-hot bottle in Genma’s only kitchen towel. Genma paused to watch him, smirking a bit when he went to twist off the lid and recoiled with a hiss when he touched the burning hot metal. “Need a hand?”

“I’ve got it.” Raidou used the edge of his shirt as a glove, and tossed the lid onto the counter. “Grab the cups.” He crossed the room to Genma’s window, the bottle in one hand. With the other, he pried open the window.

Genma grabbed the cups and followed him, and they both settled side-by-side in the thankfully wide window. Raidou poured Genma’s cup of sake, and then Genma took the bottle to pour Raidou’s. When the bottle was safely out of the way, Raidou tapped the edge of their cups together lightly, before taking a two-handed sip.

“You didn’t strike me as someone with an interest in ceremony.” Genma took a sip of the sake, wrinkling his nose a bit at the taste. He’d only had sake a few times, and even he could tell that this wasn’t a particularly great bottle. He took another sip, figuring that after a while, he’d stop noticing.

“We’re celebrating. I’m jealous, you know,” he said honestly. “I expected I would beat you to this, at least, and yet here you are. Training before me, missions before me, apartment before me. Unbelievable.”

“I’m precocious.” Genma leaned against the window frame, staring down at the roof of the next building over.

“You just love winning even when it isn’t a competition.” Raidou relaxed too, dropping the formal act. He took a bigger sip, crossing one ankle over his knee. “You started training at eight, ages before me. You not only had your first mission before me, but finding you _was_ my first mission. And now, before you’re even legally an adult, you have your first apartment.”

“Like I said.” Genma shrugged and looked over at him with a grin. Raidou huffed a laugh, tilting his head back to look up at the stars. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, long enough that they each refilled the other’s cup, before Raidou spoke again.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Genma?”

Genma closed his eyes with a sigh. He took a bracing sip. He was more and more grateful for the alcohol, and the way it warmed him against the brisk autumn night. “I wasn’t purposefully avoiding telling you.”

“Bullshit.” Raidou knocked back the rest of his drink and bumped their knees together. “It’s embarrassing to find out your best friend has changed addresses from someone else.”

Genma’s heart fluttered oddly at that; Raidou had never called him his best friend before. “I didn’t think it would matter,” he muttered. “It’s not like you ever came to my house, before.”

“Because you never invited me,” Raidou pointed out. “I would have come.”

“I didn’t want you too.” Genma glanced at him from the corner of his eye, and nodded when he offered to refill their cups.

“Why?” Raidou balanced his refilled cup against his knee with one hand, watching him. Genma looked away after a moment of extended eye contact, his reflexes feeling a little fuzzy. Maybe he wasn’t grateful for the sake after all.

“I didn’t like having anyone over. My dad didn’t like me having anyone over.” He closed one eye, looking down at his feet where they were braced against the rough cement of his building.

“Did he kick you out?”

“No.” He shook his head and looked up at Raidou again. His face betrayed no trace of pity, like Genma had seen in Ebisu when he told him he was moving, or quiet concern, like Kakashi. Raidou just looked somber, his dark eyes intent. Genma wondered if the shadowed skin beneath his eyes would be a different texture than his smooth cheek.

“I was uncomfortable,” Genma admitted after a moment. “Living with him. It was a constant discomfort. It was like living with a ghost. The whole house felt weighed down, after my mom passed.” Raidou said nothing, just watched him calmly. “Do you know how it feels, when you dive into a lake and you sink so deep, that when you try to swim back to the surface, it’s suddenly so far away that the weight of the water around you makes your ears pop and your lungs constrict?”

“Yeah,” Raidou murmured. “Like you might not make it before you drown.”

“That’s how it’s felt for years.” He shrugged a little, unwilling to break eye contact. Looking away would make Raidou think he was sad, or pitiful, and he was neither.

“You’re treading water now,” Raidou said instead. He was sitting so close, Genma could feel when he exhaled one long, heavy breath. “Next you’ll make it to shore.”

Genma finally looked away. They sat in the window for a long while yet, and when the sake was gone and they were both pleasantly drunk, Raidou helped him back through the window before going home.

\---

A week shy of his seventeenth birthday, Genma made his first kill.

He was on a C-rank mission with Gai, Akimichi Choza, and Hyuuga Hizashi. They were escorting a diplomatic emissary to and from a meeting in the capital of the Land of Grass. They had only gotten the approval to go on such a long mission because they had finished the semester two days prior. The trip there and their stay went smoothly. They didn’t encounter problems until they were just a day away from their home capital.

The emissary had requested an escort because her brother had recently fallen into a bit of gambling debt, and there had been some implication that she would be killed or captured for ransom if he failed to pay his debt by a certain time - which he had. It wasn’t that big of a surprise when they were attacked, but it was surprising that the thugs sent for her were fairly competent mercenaries. And clearly they had come with the intent to kill.

Gai and Genma took formation around the emissary while Hizashi and Choza dealt with the assassins. There were four of them, and one managed to push past Choza and get into the ring of defense Genma and Gai had formed. Genma, well trained and quick, caught the man by the arm before he could strike their charge, and slit his throat.

They’d made it back to Konoha late that night, and Genma showered for nearly thirty minutes in the locker room before he put on his street clothes. Then he’d had to sit through a mandatory counseling session before he could be cleared to go home. As soon as he crossed his threshold, he made a bee-line for the bathroom and vomited. He collapsed on the linoleum floor in a cold sweat when his stomach was empty, delayed panic making him immobile for some time. 

Sleep was hard to come by when he finally dragged himself to bed. He could smell the stench of slowly rotting blood all over him, even though it had been washed away, and he could hear the harsh gurgle of the final breath the man had taken. When he closed his eyes, he could see the look of horror on the emissary’s face, as if he was the one to be feared.

He barely managed to doze, and he only got out of bed the next morning to make himself a cup of chamomile tea in the hopes of calming his nerves enough to let him rest. It didn’t work, so he drew the blinds and laid in silence for longer than he could measure. He didn’t move until his phone went off, and when he checked it there was a message from Raidou.

**18:04, Raidou**  
_Spoke with Gai. Are you hungry?_

Genma frowned at the timestamp. It didn’t feel as if he’d been in bed that long, and he wondered if at some point he’d dozed off without noticing. He wondered, also, what Gai had told Raidou.

**18:06, Genma**  
_Not really._

**18:09, Raidou**  
_Will be there with dinner soon._

Genma sighed, and slowly coaxed himself out of bed. By the time Raidou arrived, he had showered and put on fresh pajamas, and was midway through changing his sheets. His hair was still damp and clinging to his cheeks and neck when he answered the door. Raidou held up a bag of takeout, and Genma stepped aside to let him in.

Raidou unpacked dinner at the table while Genma finished making his bed and made them each a cup of tea from his electric kettle. Raidou had brought simple plum onigiri and pumpkin soup - Genma’s favorite. There was also a tell-tale box from the bakery, promising some sort of dessert. Genma couldn’t be less interested.

He sat across from Raidou and nudged his spoon through his soup indifferently, eyes following the tracks his spoon left behind. It smelled delicious, or so Genma thought. It was warring with the lingering copper sense-memory in his nose. He took a careful breath, trying to focus on his food.

“Eat, Genma,” Raidou said quietly. A glance told Genma that Raidou hadn’t touched his food yet either.

“I already told you I wasn’t hungry.” He sat back in his chair. He didn’t have quite enough energy left to pull off his usual posture, and let himself sink down with his shoulders curved forward.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you need to eat.”

“You aren’t my keeper.” He crossed his arms over his empty stomach, as if that would somehow prove his point.

“No, I’m not.” Raidou stared at him unwaveringly. “Eat.”

Genma blinked slowly, then leaned forward again and tentatively sipped his soup. As soon as he took a bite, Raidou started eating too. Genma wished he could appreciate the flavor a bit more, but at least it filled his belly and warmed him up. He managed to eat half of his serving and nibble the corner of one rice ball before his stomach began to protest and he pushed it away. He sipped his tea instead, watching Raidou eat without complaint, even though he wasn’t a fan of any soup other than miso.

When Raidou was nearly finished, Genma said, “What did Gai tell you?”

Raidou stood up without answering and began gathering their dishes. He put Genma’s leftovers in the fridge, and put the pastry box on the counter. When he returned to the table, he pulled his chair around to sit closer to Genma. He watched him for a long moment. “That you saw battle.”

“Is that all he said?” Genma huffed out a laugh, leaning back in his seat to create the illusion of distance between them. He couldn’t quite stand the pressure of being near Raidou right now.

“No.” Raidou blinked at him slowly.

Genma stared, arms looping over his stomach again as he slouched further. It was uncomfortable, both the direct gaze and the wooden chair. “If you spoke to me last week,” he said, “I would have been able to say I had never killed anyone.”

“And now?”

“That would be a lie.” Genma shivered discreetly at the thought, and resolutely didn’t let himself close his eyes. He knew what he would see. “He broke through our formation. He was attacking with the intent to kill. I didn’t have a choice.”

“That’s your duty.” Raidou blinked slowly, and the corner of his mouth twitched downward just a fraction towards concern.

“Have you done it?” Genma asked after a moment, and truly hated how timid he sounded.

Raidou nodded once, the motion tight. “A few times,” he admitted. Genma supposed that made since. Raidou had been going on missions more frequently in the last year, many of them B-rank, in preparation for him going into full active duty this summer. Genma hadn’t been allowed to know the details, but he had noticed a subtle change in Raidou. He had written it off as Raidou transitioning from childhood to adulthood, but he supposed if he looked at himself in the mirror, he might have that same look about him now.

“Does it get easier?” Genma clenched his teeth around his toothpick, feeling the strong metal flex under the pressure.

“Should it?” Raidou tilted his head a little. Genma didn’t know what Raidou read on his face at that response, but whatever it was made him soften. “A little,” he said, voice gentle. “It hasn’t gotten easy yet. But you stop having the nightmares so much. It makes it easier to separate being a shinobi from being you.” He leaned forward, resting a hand on Genma’s shoulder. “You did what you had to in order to protect a civilian. If killing came to you easily, I would be more concerned.”

Genma nodded tightly. A fine tremor had begun in his hands, and the heat radiating from that one simple point of contact seemed to be enough to slowly unravel him. “When do the nightmares stop?”

“For me?” Raidou squeezed his shoulder gently. “It took about a week to stop having them each night. And then another month for them to die down almost completely.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Genma asked, voice coming out a whisper. “I would have helped you.”

Raidou smiled, one of his rarest, most genuine smiles. The one that Genma coveted. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

Genma looked away and reached up to cover Raidou’s hand on his shoulder. He let out a slow breath, and sucked in another, desperately forcing away a wave of emotion. “I’m so tired,” he said, voice wavering.

“Then let’s get you to bed.” Raidou tried to retract his hand, and Genma squeezed it without thinking, keeping his head low enough to shield his face with his hair.

“Will you stay with me?” he asked.

“Of course,” Raidou said without hesitation.

Genma didn’t have a futon yet for guests, so they both settled in his too-small bed. They laid side-by-side on their backs, and after they said goodnight, Raidou cast his arm across his own eyes and immediately relaxed into the mattress.

Genma had no such luck. Even with Raidou beside him, the visions and the smells wouldn’t quite go away. Without his toothpick in his mouth, he had nothing to toy with, and resorted to chewing on his lower lip. He accidentally bit too hard when he thought once again of the emissary’s terrified face, and hissed softly at the sting.

One of Raidou’s feet hooked around his, weight settling immovably over his ankle. “Stop fussing,” he murmured. He pressed their feet together firmly.

“I’m not fussing.” He sent all of his focus to that one point of contact, shivering faintly at the intimacy of it.

“You’re fussing. What can I do?”

Genma hesitated. “Can you talk?” he asked at last.

Raidou shifted slightly beside him. “Do you remember the first time Gai got his bowl cut?”

Genma huffed out a surprised laugh. “I do. It was atrocious and has somehow only gotten worse.”

“Mm. I didn’t see him until that afternoon.”

As Raidou told his story, he rambled off on quiet tangents, providing too many details in a way too disjointed for Genma to follow. It was hypnotic, almost, his exhausted mind trying and failing to follow the pattern of the story. Instead he just focused on Raidou’s voice, and the steady press of their ankles side-by-side. He fell asleep with silent tears streaking down his cheeks.

\---

The following spring, Raidou graduated and the next day, he moved into an apartment in the same building as Genma. Genma wasn’t sure when it happened, but suddenly he realized that he was spending almost every night with Raidou. If Raidou was home, they ate together, and spent their evenings in one apartment or the other, reading or talking or watching something on Raidou’s small, shitty television.

At the beginning of July, Raidou left on a mission that was meant to take four days and slowly stretched on to eat up over half of the month. On day fifteen, Genma resigned himself to another evening alone. He couldn’t help feeling a bit maudlin without Raidou’s familiar company, no matter how much he chastised himself. Raidou was his best friend, being sad that he was gone was- normal.

He was just getting ready to sleep when there was a knock at the door. When he opened it, Raidou was waiting. He looked a bit sheepish to be knocking so late, but Genma just stepped out of the way so he could enter.

“You’re late,” Genma said mildly. He led the way into his apartment while Raidou took off his shoes, and tried not to let his relief be too obvious.

“I know. My trip got extended. It turns out we had a reservation at a resort in the mountains in addition to a trip to the onsen.” So the mission had moved from the Land of Hot Water to the Land of Lightning. Interesting. “Have you gotten to go on a trip?”

“Just a short vacation.” Genma sat on the edge of his bed, and Raidou turned one of the chairs away from the table to face him, dropping into it with a grateful sigh. He looked tired.

“How was the weather?” Raidou had that thoughtful, concerned frown he always had when he wasn’t around to greet Genma from a mission; as if he was afraid Genma had needed him, and he’d been absent. Genma had to carefully resist the affection that his concern stirred in his chest. It was just friendly, nothing more.

“Just a little rain,” he said dismissively, smirking a bit around his toothpick when Raidou visibly relaxed. “How about you?”

“We had to travel through a thunderstorm and a blizzard.” Raidou lifted his arm, which Genma realized now was wrapped in clean white bandages. “I got struck by lightning. Can you believe it?”

“It’s just not safe on the road these days,” Genma said. He leaned forward, inspecting Raidou’s extended arm. “You okay?” He looked up at him.

“Fine.” Raidou smiled faintly and shifted, pulling a small box from his pocket. “I missed your birthday.”

Raidou had missed his birthday, but Genma hadn’t planned to mention it. He rose a brow when Raidou offered out the box. “A present?” He took it, brows rising further at the weight of it; it felt nearly empty. “A box,” he corrected.

“Just open it, brat.” Raidou sat back in his seat, crossing his arms. Genma humored him, untying the string that held it closed, and opening it. Inside was a half-inch wide strip of black satin, with a dark metal hook-and-eye closure at the ends. He picked it up, making a noise at the fine quality of the fabric.

“Is this jewelry?” He looked up at him, trying not to let his confusion show on his face. He hadn’t worn a choker in nearly two years, after his other had been lost on a mission. He hadn’t gotten around to finding a new one, and had eventually forgotten it entirely. He tended to wear shirts with high collars now instead, particularly on missions when he needed the comfort of protection around his neck.

“Yeah.” Raidou shrugged. He had a look that Genma didn’t recognize, his eyes shying away from Genma’s for a moment. “It reminded me of you. That necklace you used to wear when we were kids.”

“That one was just a piece of cloth I tied together,” Genma pointed out. “This is really nice, Raidou, it must have been expensive.”

“Not that expensive.” Raidou shrugged vaguely. “Try it on. It might not fit, anyway.”

Genma shook his head, gently brushing his fingers over it again. It was soft, but strong, and seemed unlikely to fray. He lifted it to his throat, struggling for a moment to work the delicate hooks. But it did fit, just loose enough to be comfortable without awkwardly sagging around his neck. He ran his fingers over it thoughtfully, oddly comforted by it.

“Well?” Raidou asked.

Genma looked up at him, surprised by the intent look on Raidou’s face. Raidou did take gift giving rather seriously, though, so it wasn’t that odd, he supposed. “It fits. How does it look?” He dropped his hand and tilted his head to the side a bit. He pushed down the delicate wisp of arousal in his stomach that flared up when Raidou’s gaze moved to his throat. He felt oddly sensual in the moment, hands clenching discreetly around the box his gift had come in.

“Good,” Raidou said at last, voice soft. “Looks good.”

“Thank you.” He dropped his head, looking down at his hands as he forced himself to remember that Raidou was just a friend. It wouldn’t do to encourage thoughts like that, he reminded himself. “For the gift.”

“You’re welcome.” Raidou’s voice was gentle, and it made it hard for Genma to dismiss the swirl of emotions in his chest. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he said again, and stood, heading to the kitchenette. “You hungry?”

“I could eat,” Raidou agreed, and the tension dissipated into routine.

\---

Their time together began to fizzle out as Raidou became busier and busier. It disappeared almost altogether in the fall when Genma returned to classes. Genma saw him maybe once a week for a very late meal when Raidou returned home from a mission, or for a quickly scheduled sparring match between Raidou’s duties.

Genma hated it. He hated that he had grown so used to Raidou’s company. He hated the constant, heavy worry in the pit of his stomach when Raidou was gone too long on a mission. He hated wondering if Raidou was thinking of him, too. 

His own missions were tedious. A weekend spent hunting down a lost cat or hand-carrying packages between Konoha and nearby towns left him more time to think than he liked. Kakashi had given up on pushing for Genma to confess his feelings, but the bland expression he had whenever Genma came looking for company when Raidou was gone spoke volumes. They had gotten tired of making out, but Kakashi was still who Genma sought out when he was feeling low-spirited. 

One evening in early winter, Genma had just begun contemplating visiting Kakashi or Gai for a little entertainment when there was a knock at his door. He looked up from where he’d been having a staring match with his kettle, and wandered over to answer; it was very bizarre for someone to come knocking this late, and it couldn’t be a noise complaint again because his stereo wasn’t even _on_ this time.

He opened the door to find Raidou standing before him. He stared, mouth going slack in surprise. Raidou hadn’t been due back for at least another week. Raidou didn’t say a word, just stared at him with eyes more sleep-shadowed than usual. His nose and cheeks were pink from the cold. Genma could faintly see the impressions of his mask on the edges of his face, even though he was wearing his typical street clothes.

“You’re home. Why are you already home?” Genma frowned at him, looking him over once. He didn’t look injured, but appearances could be deceiving.

Raidou stepped over the threshold and leaned his head down against Genma’s shoulder, one hand resting lightly on his waist. Genma went still with shock, hands held awkwardly at his sides. “I can’t tell you,” Raidou said quietly. His hair was damp, like he’d just showered. Genma could feel it where the strands tickled against his neck.

He lifted a hand slowly to cup the back of his neck, wincing a bit at the chill of his skin. “You’re not dressed for the weather,” he chastised. He took a slow step back, guiding Raidou with him, so he could close the door and block the frosty air. Then he just stood and waited, keeping one hand gently on the back of his neck, and the other resting on his shoulder.

Raidou took a deep breath suddenly, like he’d been holding it for the last several minutes. He straightened up slowly, looking at Genma. His eyes were pink and irritated, but he didn’t look as if he’d been crying. It took a moment for Genma to release the back of his neck so that he could pull away. Genma was nearly as tall as Raidou now, he noticed, though he still had to look up just a bit to meet his eyes.

“I’m tired,” Raidou said quietly.

“I’m making tea.” Genma squeezed his elbow once, before stepping away completely to lead him back into the apartment. He set up a second cup of tea beside his, and made sure they were drinking something relaxing. When it was ready, instead of letting them sit at the table, he made Raidou climb into his bed the wrong way, to sit side-by-side and lean against the wall. He turned out the lights before they settled in, and when Raidou slumped just a bit into his side, he sat tall to support him.

Their tea was growing cold when Genma whispered into the darkness, “What can’t you tell me?”

“What I’m very, very good at,” Raidou said quietly, his head slumped into the wall just inches away. 

Genma thought for a long moment, before he said, ”Is it something that would concern you, if it came easily to me?”

Raidou let out a little breath, like a huff of laughter or a sob. “Yes,” he agreed. Genma lifted a hand to his cheek, and guided Raidou down to rest his head against his shoulder. Raidou turned his face into Genma’s t-shirt, and though Genma didn’t hear him cry, he could feel the dampness soak through his sleeve.

\---

The weather was finally warm again, in the final stretch of his last year of school, when Genma met Umino Iruka. It wasn’t his first time seeing him, of course. He’d seen him around town often enough, and Genma had noticed that he never missed a soccer match. He had also noticed that the kid clearly had a massive crush on him, and Genma wasn’t only saying that because he was a narcissist. He was a bit of a narcissist, but the kid was so obvious every time he even glanced his way, it was hard to ignore it.

“Well, well,” he announced, once he’d gotten a long-enough look at a very uncomfortable, blushing Umino Iruka. “We have a guest.”

He was a bit surprised when apparently all of his friends already knew him by name. Even more interesting was the subtle way Kakashi’s posture had changed when he noticed Iruka, and his unusually warm smile.

Genma smirked, glancing between them quickly. At last, he wasn’t the only one with a bit of a crush. He leaned back in the grass on one hand, looking between the two of them as Iruka sat down. His blush was a lovely shade against his skin, and it made the striking scar across his nose stand-out charmingly. A glance at Kakashi said he thought so too, if the way his half-hooded eyes subtly tracked Iruka’s movement said anything.

“Isn’t he cute as a bug?” Genma drawled. His smirk widened when Iruka’s blush immediately worsened, spreading down his neck and beneath his shirt collar. He pretended not to notice when Kakashi’s eyes cut over to him sharply. For Kakashi, this was almost as obvious as reciting poetry beneath his love’s garden balcony. How incredible.

“Genma!” Rin snapped, slapping his knee and drawing his attention away for a moment. She was chastising him, but Genma knew her well enough to recognize that small twinkle of amusement in her eye.

“What?” Genma tilted his head, never one to resist pushing others where pushing might not be welcome. He looked at Iruka, flashing him one of his most charming grins as he gave him a quick once over. “He is.”

The kid was going to combust. Kakashi surprised him by cutting in before he had a chance to speak again. “He’s taken.”

Oh, so the kid had a boyfriend? Too bad. Almost as bad as that opening. He rose both brows immediately, rolling his toothpick to the opposite side of his mouth with practiced ease. “Why, _Kakashi-kun._ ” Kakashi was going to murder him in his sleep, but it did feel worth it. “What a surprise-”

“My boyfriend’s name is Mizuki,” Iruka interrupted, voice awkwardly stilted. Genma turned his eyes slowly to him, taking another peek at his body language and _oh_. He had a boyfriend, sure, but he was _also_ infatuated with Kakashi.

“Eat up,” Kakashi said to Iruka, holding his bento in front of his face. But his eyes were on Genma, flint-black in warning. Genma smirked at him lazily.

“Genma,” Rin interjected, calling his attention away from them casually. “What were you saying about Tobirama-sensei?”

Oh, Kakashi was _absolutely never_ going to hear the end of this.

\---

“Kakashi is in love,” Genma stated, no less than two weeks later. He, Kakashi, and Obito were all sprawled in the latter boy’s room one evening after training. Ostensibly, they were gathered to help each other complete a paper, but in actuality they had gotten high as soon as they arrived, and had only put their books and papers across the table in front of them for the sake of plausible deniability.

“Isn’t it great?” Obito said wonderingly. He was half-laying across the table with one arm pillowed under his head. The other was carefully walking a pair of pretzel sticks across the spine of his overturned book. “Love is amazing. Everyone should be in love.” He looked towards Kakashi with big, dopey eyes. “I like Iruka, Kakashi. I totally thought you’d fall in love with someone way weirder.”

Kakashi glared mildly at them both, his eyes too heavy to make the look very convincing. “Have you both forgotten,” he said slowly, “That Iruka has a boyfriend?”

Obito blew a very loud raspberry, and Genma waved a hand dismissively. He could feel himself sinking closer to the floor, now reclined back on his elbows rather than his hands. “I’ve been asking around, that kid’s a piece of shit. Anyway, Iruka obviously thinks you hung the moon.”

“What have you heard about Mizuki?” Kakashi looked a fair bit more awake now, staring at Genma unwaveringly. Genma made a face at him.

“Cool it, psycho. Just lots of shit about him picking fights and being a general terror. Most people don’t like him, which is very odd since he’s with our Iruka.” Genma had grown incredibly fond of Iruka. It was hard not to like the kid. He was feisty.

“Iruka is an angel,” Obito mused. “He’s so sweet and nice, I don’t know why he even likes you, Kakashi. He’s almost as sweet as Rin.” He sighed, a slightly dopey smile crossing his face. “No one is as sweet as Rin, though. She’s the sweetest. Smartest. Funniest-”

“We’ve heard it all before.” Genma groaned, flicking a wayward pretzel in his direction. “Enough already.”

“You don’t get it,” Obito whined, rubbing the place on his forehead where he’d been hit. “You’ve never even been in love, Gen.”

Kakashi snorted. Loudly. Genma gave him a quick quelling look, but Obito was annoyingly perceptive when he was high. His eyes widened as he looked between them, and then pointed at Genma. “You are in love! Were?” He frowned a little, then pointed with renewed vigor. “Are!” he accused.

Genma tried to kick Kakashi in the thigh, but Kakashi caught his foot. “I’m not in love,” Genma said easily. He’d been repeating it to himself for long enough that it sounded convincing.

Obito wrinkled his nose, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” he said slowly.

“I do,” Genma protested. “Since we are talking about _me._ ”

“‘Kashi.” Obito looked over at him, turning his head at an awkward angle. “You know something, what was the laugh about? Who does Genma love?”

“Think about it for a minute, and tell me you don’t know that answer yourself,” Kakashi drawled. Genma actually did manage to kick him this time, but not as hard as he would have liked.

Obito squinted at him, then at Genma, before his mouth dropped open. “Gai,” he said softly, with some sort of perverse reverence. “You love Gai.”

Kakashi had to cover his face to quell his laughter, and Genma redirected his ire to Obito, flicking his leg this time. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh. That’s probably best.” Obito frowned, staring at Genma again, looking a bit more sober. “It’s Raidou, right?”

“I’m not in love,” he repeated. The pitying look on Obito’s face made him think he might not be quite as convincing with that line as he’d like to be. 

“You should tell him,” Obito said with feeling, leaning a little further across the table. “You owe it to yourself. And you would be beautiful together.”

“I disagree, and I’m sure Raidou has no interest in being beautiful with me,” Genma said distastefully. “I’d rather not talk about this. Let’s keep making fun of Kakashi, wasn’t that fun?”

“But Genma.” Obito sat up a little bit, pouting. “He’s right, Iruka has a boyfriend, but Raidou doesn’t! And he’s your best friend. You guys are together all the time, and you take care of each other, and he- he- you both have the Will of Fire,” he finished lamely.

“If Raidou had an interest in me, he would have said something by now,” Genma said dismissively. “I’m not pursuing it. Case closed.”

“Genma.” Kakashi was giving him his usual, exasperated look, but today it seemed a bit sadder. “You should really tell him. It will only get harder.”

“Why don’t you go off and tell Iruka then?” Genma snapped. He jerked upright, tugging off his bandana to retie it from where it had gone loose over his hair.

“I will, it just isn’t the right time. Telling him now would be selfish of me.” Kakashi looked away.

“And telling Raidou my feelings would be the picture of philanthropy.” Genma clenched his teeth around his toothpick, giving both of them a narrow look. “I am not in love with Raidou,” he lied. “It is not the fairytale you want it to be, and it’s not a case of me being _foolish._ ” He shot the last word at Kakashi, meeting his eyes firmly. “Leave it alone.”

Kakashi stared back at him, and that little shadow of sadness didn’t go away, even as he changed the subject. “I think I should be the best man at your wedding, Obito,” he said.

Obito, his attention appropriately distracted, took off into an elaborate discussion about his future wedding, and how he didn’t know how he could choose Kakashi over his myriad of cousins. He didn’t notice Genma’s poorly hidden misery as he collapsed back against the tatami mats. He wondered where Raidou was, and if his mission was going well.

\---

Three days later, Kakashi arrived at his window in the middle of the night to tell him that Mizuki had been hurting Iruka, that their relationship was over but Iruka would need their help to avoid him at school. He had been woken from a dead sleep at Kakashi’s arrival, but he agreed immediately, adrenaline forcing him awake.

“Maybe we should just go handle him now. Tell him why it’s in his best interest to stay away from Iruka,” Genma said bluntly. He picked up his toothpick from his bedside table, sliding it between his lips.

“You know we can’t,” Kakashi said bluntly. His eyes were black as flint, barely disguising his silent fury. “You know I want to.”

“We’ll take care of Iruka, Kakashi.” Genma squeezed his shoulder firmly, eyes hard. “I promise.”

When Kakashi left, the simmering anger in Genma’s belly stayed. It motivated him down the stairs to Raidou’s door. Raidou answered, barely awake, with a confused furrow of his brow. Genma pushed into his apartment, ranting hotly about how someone who laid their hands on a partner should be punished. He went on for nearly twenty minutes before cooling off enough to explain the exact situation. By the time he’d run out of steam, he’d collapsed on Raidou’s bed beside him.

Raidou dropped an arm across his waist blindly, his face already buried in his pillow where he was sprawled on his stomach. Genma suspected he’d slept through most of his diatribe. “Do you want me to kill him for you?” he mumbled.

“No. That’s too easy,” Genma muttered, glaring at the dark ceiling.

“Thought I’d offer,” Raidou hummed, and then he was asleep. Genma ended up dozing off beside him, vaguely annoyed that he’d been ignored, but mostly content under the familiar weight of Raidou’s arm.

\---

“I started training when I was thirteen,” Raidou explained to Iruka. The two of them were sitting side-by-side beneath Iruka’s tree, a short distance from where Kakashi and Genma were lounging on the grass. Genma was pretty sure he wasn’t meant to be overhearing their conversation. “So I was a bit behind these guys.” Raidou nodded towards them, and Genma had to contain a smirk. “It took me a long time to catch up. I’m a bit clumsy,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Stop eavesdropping,” Kakashi murmured, glancing over from his book.

“Wouldn’t know I was if you weren’t,” Genma said. He looked away from Raidou to lift a brow at Kakashi. “One-on-one lessons, huh? Does he call you sensei?”

“Don’t be crass,” Kakashi drawled, which was rich coming from him.

“You’re so gone on him.” Genma rolled his eyes, looking up when Raidou’s shadow fell across him. 

Raidou offered out a hand and Genma took it, letting himself be lifted to his feet. Raidou brushed grass off his shoulder, nodding towards Iruka. “He needs to get back to work. Let’s go.”

“Alright.” Genma shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“What were you saying, Genma?” Kakashi asked lightly, arching a brow at him from his place on the ground.

“Bye.” Genma rolled his eyes and followed Raidou, waving at Iruka as they left. “Bye, Iruka-kun,” he called. He smirked, feeling Kakashi's irritated glance without looking.

When they had cleared the practice area, Raidou said, “You were flirting with Iruka.”

Genma made an inquisitive noise, glancing over at him. He certainly had not been flirting with Iruka. In fact, he had made a pointed effort not too, nervous about this very interaction. His only flirting had been in his greeting and his goodbye, both of them with plenty of plausible deniability. “What’s that?”

“You were flirting with Iruka,” he repeated. He led the way back onto the street, stepping out of the forest completely as they blended back in with the civilians. “Do you like him?”

Genma snorted. “No. Of course not.”

“He’s cute,” Raidou said mildly. Genma glanced at him quickly, heart flipping. Raidou thought Iruka was cute? Really?

“Is he.” Genma looked back at the street, holding back a frown.

“He has nice hair. And he’s very friendly.”

“Kakashi likes him,” Genma said, as blandly as possible. Best not reveal how uncomfortable the thought of Raidou contemplating the attractiveness of another one of their friends was. The little flicker of jealousy at the thought was frustrating enough without anyone else knowing about it.

“I figured.” Raidou led the way up the stairs to their building, his back to Genma. “Doesn’t mean you couldn’t like him too.”

“Iruka isn’t my type. He’s Kakashi’s type.” Genma barely resisted the urge to pout.

“If he was your type, that would be okay.” Raidou stopped at his door, looking over his shoulder at him. “I bet you could give Kakashi a run for his money.”

“I swear I don’t like him.” Genma rolled his eyes and looked away. “What do you want me to say?”

“Are you staying for dinner?” Raidou looked away to unlock his door.

“Obviously,” Genma said gruffly, and followed him inside.

\---

“I’m worried about Kakashi,” Iruka said softly. He was sitting next to Genma at Ichiraku, his big eyes sad as he stared into his bowl. Genma wondered if he knew how emotive he was. He tilted his head minutely when Iruka looked up at him, his mouth pressed into a firm line. “Why aren’t they back yet? It was only supposed to be a week.”

Genma sighed and took a sip of his water. They’d been back in town for less than three hours, and Genma had suggested getting dinner together when he found out Raidou was still out on a mission. The three of them had stumbled across Iruka as he finished his training for the day and brought him along because he’d looked so sullen. At least now Genma knew why.

“Missions can take longer than we expect,” Genma said. “We were only supposed to be gone for four days and it took six. Nothing happened, the objective was just a little more complicated than the parameters suggested.”

What he didn’t say is that he’d heard rumors that Kakashi, Rin, and Obito had run into trouble. He definitely didn’t mention that there had been injuries. After all, it was just a rumor. And the rest of the rumors said they’d be returning soon, so there was no point in giving Iruka something to actually worry about.

He dreamed about his bed on the walk home. The thought was almost enough to distract him from his worry over Raidou, who was also late returning. There had been far too much unrest on missions lately; none of them had been making it home without an unexpected altercation of some kind. Genma could tell that the commanders were worried about something. Something was happening, and no one was saying what.

He almost bumped directly into Raidou on his doormat, stopping just an inch away from him with a surprised exhale. He took a step back, relief easing the tension in his shoulders. Raidou had a small bandage on his jaw, but otherwise seemed to be in one piece, his gaze intent.

“Raidou, you’re home.”

“I just got back. Sakumo-san said you were home, but you weren’t here when I arrived.” His voice was tight.

“I went to dinner with Gai, Ebisu, and Iruka.” He frowned. He didn’t like the tight line of Raidou’s shoulders, or the stiff way he was holding himself, like he was coiled up for an attack. “They said you weren’t home yet when I got back.”

“I just got back,” Raidou repeated. “I heard some of the teams ran into trouble. I thought-” He clenched his jaw briefly. “I was concerned that your team had run into trouble.”

Genma relaxed slightly, heart fluttering weakly at his concern. He wanted it to mean something other than friendship, but he knew better. “I’m home,” he said quietly. “I’m fine.”

“Welcome home,” Raidou said stiffly. “I’m glad.”

“Raidou.” Genma lifted a hand and very, very slowly rested it on his arm, telegraphing his intent as clearly as possible. Raidou still flinched slightly when he touched him. “You’re home too.”

Raidou just nodded once, looking at the ground. He took a slow breath, some of the tension in his body easing. Genma squeezed his arm gently. “Come inside,” he said quietly. “You need to eat and rest.”

“I’m sure you want to go to bed, if you just came home,” Raidou said.

“Just come inside.” Genma reached past him to unlock the door, carefully herding him over the threshold. He made him sit while he threw together a meal for him, wincing at the state of his fridge. By the time he managed to make something edible, Raidou had released some of that coiled energy. Exhaustion had taken its place, his face nearly grey with it. Genma put his food on the table and sat across from him while he wolfed it down. His color had improved by the time he was finished, and he was holding himself like Raidou again, instead of like ANBU.

“Sorry,” he said as he stood with his plate. He took it to Genma’s sink and began cleaning up the dishes quickly. “Tough trip,” he explained.

“I figured.” Genma watched him clean, bracing an elbow against the table. “Can’t say?”

“I just get better and better,” Raidou muttered, barely audible over the sound of running water.

Genma sighed. Through carefully not saying what his new role was, Raidou had all but shouted to Genma that he was becoming quite the skilled assassin. In an unexpected turn, the clumsy boy who Genma had met had become a talented, graceful killer. Even if Raidou hadn’t been dropping hints, Genma would have heard through gossip. Every shinobi in Konoha had been whispering about the new ghost and his fabled black sword. Even if his cut didn’t kill you, they said, his poison would finish the job.

“Sorry to hear that,” he said. He crossed his ankles, watching as Raidou began drying the dishes. “My trip was alright. A little tough.”

Raidou glanced over his shoulder at him, stiffening just a hair. He looked back at his task. “Oh?”

“I tripped and broke my ribs,” Genma drawled. “I’m so silly.”

Raidou hung the towel and turned to lean back against the sink, watching him. He swallowed around nothing, and Genma noticed where his hands were clenched on the countertop. He opened his mouth once, then closed it, looking frustrated. “I don’t like not being able to know more about your mission,” he said bluntly.

“We don’t have the same clearance,” Genma reminded him.

“I _know._ ” Raidou let out a breath. “Just. Enough riddles for tonight.” He rubbed his hands across his face, shoulders bowing. “Enough.”

Genma stared at him, a little bewildered. Neither of them usually caved to their emotions like this, and if they did, it was only in the dark. Now, the lights were on, and Genma could clearly see the stress and frustration pouring off of him. It was hard to watch Raidou’s familiar features crumple, his shoulders pulled down by exhaustion.

“No more riddles,” Genma agreed. He stood up, and flipped off the light, plunging them into darkness. He picked his way across the room as his eyes adjusted to the light and stopped right in front of Raidou. He hesitated before resting his hands lightly on Raidou’s shoulders. He was surprised when Raidou didn’t flinch from the sudden touch.

“Genma.”

“We were delivering a scroll to a Suna team,” he murmured quietly, shivering faintly at the immediate guilt for speaking this aloud. “On our way home, we ran into a group of missing nin. Four of them. We managed to fend them off, but one of them got me. Broke my ribs, Ebisu got a concussion. Slowed us down a little on the way home.”

He barely managed to contain a gasp when Raidou’s hands came to rest on his sides, tenderly pressing against his ribs through the light cotton of his shirt. “Did you see a healer?” he asked. Raidou’s voice sounded- different, Genma could place how. Somewhat raw.

“Yeah,” he breathed, flexing his hands against Raidou’s shoulders. “Rest for three days. Not bad enough to heal, just bad enough to hurt.”

Raidou’s hands curved around his ribcage, pressing into his sides a little more firmly. It was enough to put pressure on the bruises on his left side, and Genma did gasp then, wincing. Raidou’s touch relaxed immediately. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Just- wanted to feel.”

“It’s okay,” Genma soothed, heart thundering in his chest. “It’s the left. Don’t- hurts.”

“Sorry,” Raidou repeated. He rubbed Genma’s left ribs delicately, the hand on his right pressing firmly against him again. “Sorry.”

“Tell me about your trip?” Genma asked. He felt bold in the darkness, with Raidou’s hands on him. He traced his fingers lightly up Raidou’s shoulders until he found the edge of his collar. He traced one finger lightly against the skin there, a thrill shooting up his spine at the feel of it. 

Raidou let out a slow breath, and Genma was close enough that he felt it against his face. “The target was in a village in the Land of Hot Springs,” he murmured. His hands moved to Genma’s waist and squeezed firmly. It made Genma’s head spin. “Commissioned by the Frost daimyo. Some gang in Frost has been… causing problems.” He stumbled a bit, clearly deciding some details still couldn’t be shared. “Leader was hiding out in the hot springs. We found the onsen where he was staying. I snuck into his room after he fell into a drunken sleep.” His shoulders shifted uncomfortably under Genma’s hands. “He didn’t even wake up.”

“You feel ashamed,” Genma realized. He squeezed his shoulders, trying to coax the muscles there to relax.

“I feel dirty,” Raidou snapped. “He was defenseless. Even his guards were drunk. They only noticed me as I was leaving.”

“He was causing problems.” Genma had to turn his head away when Raidou squeezed his waist again, hiding the way it made his jaw go slack. “It was your duty.”

“I hate it,” Raidou said simply.

“I know.” Genma glanced back up at him. Raidou’s head was tilted back, eyes closed, mouth a grim line. Genma shifted a hair closer, massaging his shoulders tentatively. “You’re home now.”

Raidou made a noise of discontent, hands flexing around Genma. He shook his head, just a bit.

“Raidou...” Genma stepped closer, and wrapped Raidou in his arms carefully. He had to step onto his tip-toes to fit his arms around his shoulders.

Raidou’s arms slid around him, drawing him close. He pressed his face against Genma’s shoulder, sighing. “Don’t think I’m weak.”

“I don’t,” Genma said honestly. He closed his eyes and let himself have this moment, memorizing the way their bodies fit together.

“I’m glad you’re safe.” Raidou’s nose brushed his neck, and Genma contained a shiver, just barely. “I don’t know how I would keep going.”

Genma discarded the words before they could take root somewhere in his chest and try to grow. “I’m tired,” he mumbled. “Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Raidou agreed. “Can I stay?”

“Yeah.” Genma squeezed him carefully. “If that’s what you want.”

\---

At the end of summer, Genma was assigned to his first mission with Raidou. Their third was Hayate, who had one year left of school, but had been training with Raidou’s kenjutsu master for over a year. It meant their team had two short-range fighters, with Genma as their primary mid-range ninjutsu user, and no tracker, no healer. Raidou was assigned as their team captain.

“It’s a C-rank mission,” he said. Genma could only tell he was troubled because he knew him so well; there was that slight downturn at the corner of his mouth that meant he was concerned, but would likely be read by most as sternness. He was twisting one of his cloth rings as he spoke. “We’re going to an outpost at the border of Fire and Waterfall. We’re retrieving a message from Takigakure for the Hokage.”

Genma understood why he was tense now; a mission retrieving correspondence for the Hokage had no business as a C-rank mission, even if they were unlikely to see combat. A direct message to the Hokage automatically became a B-rank mission because of the political value of the missive.

“No one outside of this room knows about this other than the Hokage and the author.” The subtle twitch of Raidou’s fingers said he didn’t believe that to be true. “The trip there should take no more than two days, and we will return immediately.” That meant they wouldn’t be taking a day to rest, which was the usual timeline for a C or D-rank travel mission. The message was urgent, then.

“Sounds like a walk in the park. Suppose you two can do it without me?” Genma drawled, aiming to lighten the mood. Hayate coughed out a little laugh, but Raidou looked at him sharply, mouth pressed into a tight, grim line.

“Don’t give me any ideas. Get your pack, let’s go. We’re burning daylight.” Raidou pressed his mask over his face, his usual stance disappearing into the sleek posture of a warrior. His original goat mask had been replaced by the harsh black-lined visage of a wolf.

Genma and Hayate left to do as told, and Genma didn’t dare bump into the Wolf as he passed.

\---

The first day went smoothly. They traveled silently through the trees, with Genma at the head of their formation as the most skilled sensor. His training with Tobirama had helped him improve the skill, though he didn’t have the same natural talent for it as his sensei. He was more adept than most, and would likely detect any enemy before the other two, and his slight ninjutsu advantage would give him the best opportunity to defend against any enemy. It would give the other two time to fan out and move in from the sides. 

The second day was much the same, though the tension amongst them had yet to fade. They arrived at the outpost just after nightfall. The Konoha shinobi working there insisted that they stay for dinner. Genma noticed that Raidou barely ate, gazing blankly at his fingers as he twisted his rings on, off, on, off.

When they left, Raidou wordlessly tucked the retrieved scroll into his vest. “We’re changing formation,” he said quietly. “Column form. I’m at the front, Cat middle, Sloth back.”

“You have the message, senpai,” Genma said quietly. “You should be in the middle.”

“I’m at the front,” Raidou repeated stiffly. Genma held out his hand wordlessly and they stared at each other through their masks. Raidou relented and pulled the scroll from his vest, slapping it into Genma’s hand. “You’re in the middle, then.”

“Yes, senpai.” Genma tucked the scroll away, disquieted by Raidou’s tension. This was abnormal for him in this form, Genma knew that. Kakashi had gone on a mission with him, and said that he was sleek, silent, and skilled, unlike any version of himself that Kakashi had ever seen. The Wolf standing before Genma reeked of Raidou’s typical stress-induced ill-temper.

They returned to the trees. The first few hours passed silently. Raidou was pushing their speed, hard enough that Genma could feel the ache in his legs. When he could hear Hayate’s breathing go labored behind him, he whistled. Raidou came to an immediate stop, and Genma and Hayate landed in the branches around him. Raidou looked at him, questioning.

Genma made the gesture for _break._

Raidou made the gesture for _move._

Genma scowled behind his mask and subtly gestured towards Hayate with his chin. Their third was crouched on his branch, his struggle for breath nearly audible.

Raidou made the gesture for _move._

_Break._

_Move._

Genma clicked his tongue, irritated, and jumped to Raidou’s branch, close enough to whisper, “He’s going to fall behind. We need to rest.”

“He can keep going,” Raidou said brusquely.

“My legs hurt,” Genma snapped. “And I know yours do too. Twenty minutes. Water, rest.”

“Ten.” Raidou sounded as annoyed as Genma felt.

“Fifteen.”

“Fine.” Raidou directed his gaze to Hayate, whose face was turned towards them, watching. Raidou made the gestures for _break, ground._ All three of them descended to the ground, clustering between three close-growing trees. In silence, they took turns removing their masks to drink water and down a food pill. Hayate sat and breathed; Genma stretched his legs and back, massaging his muscles to encourage them to keep going. Raidou guarded them, standing stiffly with his back to them after he finished his snack.

At exactly fifteen minutes, he turned back to them, signing, _move, up._

Hayate and Genma nodded and climbed to their feet. Hayate jumped into the thick branches first, and before Genma and Raidou could follow, he came ricocheting back to the ground, barely catching himself in a crouch. As soon as his feet were settled, his sword was out. Raidou and Genma followed suit immediately, Genma with a kunai and Raidou with his dark sword. They moved into a triangle, backs together, staring into the leaves around them. It was silent, and Genma couldn’t sense a thing.

“Sloth, report,” Raidou said stiffly.

“Someone hit me,” Hayate said. “I couldn’t see them.”

“What do you-” Genma didn’t finish his sentence, grunting as Hayate stumbled into his back, apparently hit by something even though they appeared to be the only ones in the clearing. Genma just managed to catch Hayate’s weight instead of buckling, and Raidou moved, slicing in a rapid arch in the direction the strike had come from. There appeared to be nothing there, but his sword hit something, setting off a spray of blood and a shriek from whoever he had hit. Genma could sense whoever it was, just for a moment, a flair of chakra in response to the unexpected pain. The assailant was before them for a moment, and then sprang back into the trees, still invisible to the eye. His chakra signature disappeared again.

“Fuck,” Raidou cursed softly. Genma took his position again, reaching one hand back to give Hayate a supportive pat on the arm as the younger boy adjusted his stance.

“They went back into the trees,” Genma murmured. “I could sense them for a minute, but they’re hiding again.”

They stayed in place for a few long minutes, waiting for another strike. When it didn’t come, Raidou gave a short whistle that meant _move_ and all three of them sprang back into the trees, taking off again in a blur. They were pushing even faster than before, falling back into their column formation, but this time tighter, barely a tree’s distance between each of them. He split his focus between Raidou’s back and throwing his senses around them, searching intently for even a whisper of chakra and- there. He could feel a faint signature behind them, moving quickly on their tail. The approach was too confident for someone pursuing alone, most likely one of a group of invisible attackers. Most likely the one Raidou had injured.

“Got company,” Genma called. “One, seven o’clock. Moving fast. Definitely not alone.”

The forest was beginning to thin ahead of them, and Genma remembered the rickety bridge they had passed earlier that morning. It crossed a deep, dark crevice. Walking over it had made Hayate nervous, and he’d mumbled something about a story his mother had told him of monsters who lurk deep within the earth.

Raidou had to abandon the trees first, jumping to the earth and heading for the bridge at a run with Genma and Hayate hot at his heels.

Hayate’s cut-off shout drew them both to a stop, spinning to see Hayate lifted away from the ground and then thrown to the side by some invisible force. He bounced across the rocky earth, skidding to a halt dangerously close to the edge of the drop. Hayate seemed to agree, immediately scrambling away to more solid ground. 

Raidou moved in front of Genma, putting Genma between him and the bridge. “Keep going,” he said.

“No.” Genma pressed his hands together around his kunai, intently reaching for their enemies with his senses. He found the faint signature he was looking for and quickly formed his hand seals for a _katon_ , taking in a deep breath and breathing out a rapid series of fire in that direction. It had the intended effect; one of them managed to catch the invisible foe alight. He shouted and shimmered into view; he was older than the three of them, likely in his late thirties, with a paunch and no hair. His shirt was on fire and there was an ugly slash down his arm from Raidou’s sword that was still dripping blood.

A jet of water came from thin air a few yards to his right, extinguishing the flame. Hayate had recovered now, and he was the closest; he attacked the source of the water, slipping into his signature three-pronged attack with the assistance of two shadow clones. Only one of them managed to strike true, but the cut it landed was significant enough to break the enemy’s focus. The new foe was a woman, younger than her companion but older than them by a couple of years. Her hair was dark and short, and her wound extended across her stomach, staining her pale dress black with blood.

“Niko!” The scorched man yelled.

“Ow,” Niko said, hands pressed firmly to the wound. Genma realized with sickening clarity that her hands were likely the only thing holding her guts in place. She took one step and collapsed forward.

Hayate moved back into formation with them, and flicked his sword to the side sharply to clean it of the blood. His clones had already been dismissed, the chakra drain too large to keep them around.

“You bastard,” the man snarled. Raidou took a defensive stance in front of both of them, muscles coiled like a predator waiting to pounce.

“Genma?”

“Looking,” Genma answered. It took a moment, but he found another faint whisper of chakra, likely an uncontainable reaction to the death of a teammate. He flicked his kunai in that direction. It drew a hiss from whoever was hidden to their far right, not dealing enough damage to force them to reveal themselves. But it did confirm their location.

Raidou moved before the hiss was finished, body flickering from Genma’s side across the clearing in under a second, striking the empty air. The third assailant came into view, run clean through with Raidou’s sword. This one was a younger man, likely within three years of them, with long hair and pale skin. His mouth was open in surprise, blood bubbling from the corners of as he struggled to breath. Raidou withdrew his sword and was back at Genma’s side before the body hit the ground.

The first man _screamed,_ and formed hand seals for some sort of water release. Genma decided it was best not to let him finish and flung three shuriken in his direction, breaking his concentration and forcing him to trip to the side to avoid them. He was dragging his left leg, likely a symptom of Raidou’s poison taking hold of his body. That would explain why he hadn’t attacked sooner. Genma caught him with a final kunai, flung exactly in the path of his stumbling steps. The knife found a new home in his throat and he barely had time to grasp his neck before he crashed to the ground.

The three of them stood in silence, waiting to see if anyone else would emerge. Genma could sense no one else around them, and he saw the moment Raidou’s shoulders eased. He resheathed his sword and nodded at Hayate to do the same. “Operating as a three man cell,” he mumbled.

Genma was opening his mouth to agree when a strike to his left side sent him careening through the air, and directly into the open mouth of the cavern behind him. As he tumbled over the side, he just managed to see the moment Hayate went down, and Raidou redraw his sword. Then he was in free-fall, his body was spinning out of his control, the trench too wide for him to grab onto either side. He didn’t have time to think, using the first jutsu he remembered; a shadow clone, as Hayate had used moments before. His copy appeared in the air beside him and grabbed his arm, stopping his rotation and flinging him from free-fall into the rough cliff wall. Genma grappled at the rock, managing to adhere himself with chakra and pull himself to a halt.

When he looked down, he was less than five yards from the rocky bottom. When he looked up, the mouth of the cavern was so far, he couldn’t quite see it, the dark of the night sky blending into the gloom above him. Luckily for him, the fabled monsters from Hayate’s childhood story apparently didn’t live in this particular cavern.

He began climbing, despite the fine tremor in his muscles, shock and exhaustion warring for dominance in his body. He pulled himself over the cliffs edge a few minutes later, dragging himself to his feet. He was on the opposite side of the bridge from the battle, and from a distance he could count four bodies. Raidou and Hayate were left standing. Genma headed back across the bridge, feeling vaguely nauseous as he passed over the thing that had nearly claimed his life.

Raidou’s back was to him when he approached, and his hands were tugging at his hair. Hayate was standing a fair distance away, hands up in a placating manner. He appeared to be alright, even though Genma had seen him take a hit. “Senpai-” Hayate tried, and he sounded a bit wary.

“Stupid!” Raidou snapped. “How could I let my guard down-”

“I mean, you’ve done stupider,” Genma interjected.

Raidou spun around. His mask was pushed to the side, and when he looked at Genma, his eyes were huge and terrified in a way Genma had never seen them before.

“Show me your face,” he snapped.

“ANBU can’t remove their mask,” Genma said automatically.

“Do it!”

Genma pushed his mask back obediently. He understood now why Hayate was keeping his distance; killing intent was rolling off of Raidou in violent waves.

“Hey. It’s me.” He frowned, making sure he looked as calm and nonthreatening as possible. “You really think a fall was gonna kill me?”

Raidou’s face relaxed immediately, shoulders dropping. The heavy energy in the air disappeared. “Fuck,” he said softly.

“It was a close one, for sure.” Genma pulled his mask back down, walking slowly back to solid ground. “I mean, I’m pretty grateful it was such a long fall. Any shorter and I would have been splattered all over the rocks.”

“Genma. Shut up.” Raidou lifted his head, glowering at him. Genma stepped close enough to touch him, and reached out, gently guiding Raidou’s mask back over his face.

“We have work to do, senpai,” he said quietly. He cupped his hand briefly against Raidou’s porcelain cheek before withdrawing. “I think you were right before. We should keep moving.”

“I agree,” Hayate chimed in.

Raidou didn’t say anything for a long moment, then nodded. “Let’s move,” he muttered. They crossed the bridge in a careful single-file line, and returned to the trees as soon as possible.

They only rested once more before returning to Konoha, this time long enough for each of them to take a brief cat nap. Raidou sat guard while Hayate and Genma dozed; after two hours, Genma woke to guard the other two. An hour later, they were back on their feet. They made it to Konoha just after nightfall the next day.

Genma gave the scroll to Raidou when they passed through the city gates, and Raidou disappeared in a swirl of leaves to report in and deliver the message. Genma went with Hayate back to the training headquarters, where they both changed back to their civilian garb in an exhausted daze, before setting off for home.

When he made it back to his apartment, he showered and forced himself to eat a bowl of leftover rice. He would regret it later if he didn’t eat now, well aware that the energy from his food pill would wear off soon, and without something else in his stomach, the drop would be miserable.

He had just finished rinsing his bowl when there was a knock at his door. He sighed and leaned against the counter. It was probably a friend who had heard he returned early; maybe Gai, maybe Kakashi.

When he opened the door, it was Raidou standing on his welcome mat. His hair was damp from a shower, and he hadn’t bothered with real clothes before coming to Genma’s door, wearing lounge pants, a well-worn t-shirt, and his house slippers.

“Can I come in?” he asked, eyes intent. 

“Sure.” Genma rose a brow and stepped out of the way. Raidou entered and shut the door behind himself. “I’m surprised you didn’t-” He faltered as Raidou moved towards him, backing him into the wall without a word. When his shoulders hit the wall, he spoke again. “Raidou?”

“You almost died,” Raidou said quietly. He wasn’t touching him, just hovering close to him in a way that made Genma _feel_ like they were touching all over.

“We all almost died,” Genma pointed out. He had to blink rapidly to make his eyes focus on anything other than Raidou’s mouth, moving up to his eyes instead. “It was a mission.”

“I don’t care. _You_ almost died.” Raidou’s hands lifted to the wall on either side of him, pressing into the wood panels. “I was in charge of you, and I made a bad call that almost led to you _dying._ ”

“Most shinobi operate in three-man teams,” Genma corrected. “We didn’t have any reason to think-”

“Genma,” Raidou said, and it sounded like he was in pain. “Please shut up.” It looked a bit like he was in pain too, his jaw tense and his brow furrowed over intense eyes.

“What?” Genma stared up at him, swallowing thickly. He wished he’d picked up his toothpick, wished he had something to distract himself. He was too tired for this, unable to draw the line between their friendship and his feelings. He desperately wanted to wrap his arms around Raidou, sink into him, kiss his travel-dry lips-

“I am- barely keeping it together.” Genma saw Raidou’s hands flex against the wall from the corner of his eye. “I’m gonna do something you won’t like in a second, and just- you’ve gotta stop me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Genma shifted against the wall.

“Just stop me,” Raidou said, and then Raidou kissed him.

Was kissing him. Still. Genma felt disjointed, like he was witnessing the moment from outside of his own body. There was no way that, in reality, Raidou was kissing him. His slightly chapped lips were moving against Genma’s in a kiss that felt barely restrained, like he was forcing himself to be gentle. Genma could feel him trembling, or thought he could. But this was all, most likely, a dream or an illusion or a mental break from his near-death experience. Or maybe he was dead, and this was what heaven had granted him for being a relatively good person.

Regardless, after a moment of stunned inaction, Genma surged forward, wrapping his arms around Raidou’s shoulders to pull him closer. Raidou made a desperate sound against his lips and deepened the kiss immediately, his tongue mapping out Genma’s in a way that made him light-headed. Raidou’s hands wedged between his back and the wall, pulling and pushing at him until they were pressed together from chest to toe.

Genma was right about how he would kiss. He had never imagined the desperation of it, but he did kiss like it was his mission to make Genma fall apart. He was forceful, barely giving Genma the time for a proper response. Whenever he realized he’d done something Genma liked, he looped back to it until he was only kissing Genma in ways that made his blood sing. The best he could do was hold on, fingers tangled in Raidou’s short hair.

Genma pulled away to breathe, gasping against Raidou’s mouth. Raidou nuzzled their faces together, peppering kisses across his cheek as he panted. “Gotta- stop me, Genma,” he whispered, voice rough.

“No,” Genma said, and pulled him back into another desperate kiss. This time he tried to do what Raidou liked, finding that Raidou pushed against him harder when he sucked and would moan into the kiss when he used teeth.

They had to break to breathe again. Genma pressed his hips against Raidou’s thoughtlessly, helplessly aroused. Raidou made a low sound, hands clamping around his hips to hold him still. “Don’t,” he mumbled. He tilted his head, dragging wet kisses down Genma’s throat.

“Please,” Genma choked out, because this wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be real, what if it never happened _again._ He scratched at Raidou’s back through his shirt, arching into him. He felt inebriated, absolutely out of control of his own body, drunk on touch.

Raidou bit at his choker, dragging the fabric against Genma’s throat with his teeth. Genma made a noise he’d be embarrassed about later, bucking against him. Raidou hissed softly, hands loosening enough on his hips that Genma could move again. “I shouldn’t-”

“Yes, yes, yes-” Genma caught Raidou’s face between his hands, dragging him back into a kiss. Raidou’s hands slid down, grabbing Genma’s ass and tugging him closer. Genma moaned into his mouth, his last remaining brain cell fleeing as Raidou rolled their hips together, his arousal as obvious as Genma’s. All Genma could think about was getting _closer._ He knew his kisses were losing their finesse, his attention scattered to all the places they were touching.

Raidou pulled out of the kiss, but didn’t stop grinding against him. His pupils were blown wide, dark eyes almost entirely black. There was a soft flush over his cheeks and Genma was distantly grateful that his hall light was on, and he was able to see him in all his glory. “Wanna- bed?” Raidou asked, words stilted.

Genma just nodded, tilting his head to rub his cheek against Raidou’s scarred cheek, shivering at the sensation. “Please,” he whispered.

Raidou made a low noise and lifted him so that his toes were barely grazing the ground. Genma focused his attention on Raidou’s scar, pressing tiny kisses along each section, mind shattering at the knowledge of how each little bit of it felt at last. He didn’t even realize they’d been moving until he was dropped onto the bed, Raidou falling on top of him in a clumsy mess of limbs.

Genma shifted to rearrange them, tugging until Raidou was between his legs, his knees drawn up a bit and spread in a way that made his over-worked muscles ache, but that drew Raidou so close that he dare not change a thing. Raidou settled over him, braced on his arms, and thrust against him with a low moan. Genma realized distantly that this is how they would lay if Raidou was fucking him, and he almost convulsed with the wave of pleasure that trembled through his body at the thought. He hooked his ankles behind Raidou to spur him forward. Genma’s hands scrambled to push up Raidou’s shirt, desperate to touch bare skin.

“Not gonna last long,” Raidou grunted, nuzzling into the hollow of Genma’s throat. Genma tipped his head back encouragingly and let out a little shout when Raidou nipped sharply at the sensitive skin.

“Yeah,” Genma stuttered, rolling his hips up to meet Raidou. Fuzzily, he realized this would all be easier without pants, but the idea of stopping long enough to manage that seemed insurmountable. He cupped the back of Raidou’s neck and dug into his hair with hands awkwardly hooked through his shirt collar, all tangled up in him.

“You’re so- fuck, Genma-”

Genma saw stars when Raidou said his name, the ache in his stomach swirling tight. “Oh, fuck, fuck- Raidou-”

“Say my name again, please, say my name-” Raidou latched onto his throat again, sucking viciously. It made Genma buck up against him, so close it was beginning to hurt.

“Raidou,” he gasped, hands scrambling back down his chest, escaping his t-shirt to slide down the back of his pants instead, urging him closer desperately. “Raidou, _oh_ , fuck-” He twisted his head to the side, toes curling as he danced at the edge of release. “P- _please_ \- gonna-”

“Do it,” Raidou ordered, his mouth pressed close to his ear. “Come on, Genma, for me-”

Genma trembled over the edge, momentarily blacking out at the wave of pleasure that washed through his body. It was unlike any other orgasm he’d had, lasting longer and shaking through him harder than anything else he’d ever experienced. When he came back to himself, body going pliant, Raidou was still rocking against him. He was trembling too, mouth open against Genma’s throat- and Genma realized he was coming too, hips jerking in little shocks of pleasure. 

It made Genma moan again, a phantom shiver of pleasure skating across his nerves at the thought of Raidou reacting that way to _him_. He reached down tentatively, curling a curious hand around Raidou’s erection through his sweatpants. Raidou gave a full-body shiver, and panted against Genma’s skin. Genma stroked him through it slowly, revelling at the damp fabric under his palm with a soft sound of wonder.

Raidou slowly relaxed over him, blanketing him with his body. He still wasn’t putting his full weight against him, strong arms stiffly bracing him even as they shook with the exertion of it. Hesitantly, Genma lowered his legs and shifted them, rolling so they were laying on their sides together, bodies still pressed close. It put them eye to eye. Raidou looked deeply pleased, his eyes slightly glazed in bliss, his entire face relaxed for once. Tentatively, Genma lifted a hand to cup his cheek, brushing his thumb in a gentle arch over his skin. Raidou turned his head minutely, pressing a kiss to his palm with a soft hum.

“We should clean up,” Raidou murmured. “We’ll hate ourselves when we wake up if we don’t.”

Genma shivered, another wave of pleasure belatedly washing over him at Raidou’s words. Because those words implied that he would stay. “Okay,” he said quietly, unwilling to move.

Raidou watched him for a long time, one hand slowly rubbing his upper arm in a soothing gesture. After a while he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to Genma’s mouth. Genma closed his eyes and leaned in, humming. When Raidou pulled away, that special smile crossed his face and Genma wondered vaguely if he'd been right and this really was, in fact, heaven.

“I’ll be right back,” Raidou murmured. “Don’t move.”

Raidou left the bed for the bathroom. Genma slowly rolled onto his back, making a displeased noise at the tacky-damp feeling of his pants against his skin. Raidou returned shortly, and presented him with a damp rag and fresh pants before turning away. Genma noticed Raidou’s sweats had disappeared, replaced with a pair of Genma’s own. 

Genma was bizarrely grateful for the privacy as he cleaned up. Raidou discarded the dirty linens when he was done, and tugged him to his feet so they could both crawl beneath his blankets. They settled together on their sides facing each other again, arms looped over each other.

“We’ll talk tomorrow?” Raidou asked, once they were settled.

“Okay,” Genma mumbled. He leaned forward, giving him a tentative kiss. Raidou leaned into it, kissing him slow and deep. They kissed until they fell asleep, heads balanced on the same pillow.

\---

Genma woke up late the next morning with an empty stomach and sandy eyes. He sat up slowly. He combed his fingers back through his hair to loosen any knots, looking down at Raidou beside him. In the night they had separated as much as possible on the narrow mattress, and Raidou had rolled to his stomach, his face buried in the crook of his arm. He’d cast his shirt aside at some point and half-squirmed out of the blankets, his back open to the air.

Genma was freaking out less than he expected. He had a small squirming knot of nerves in his belly, but he was pretty sure most of that was from hunger rather than genuine concern. For the most part, he just felt content. If this was all they had, just one night, he felt like he might be okay with that.

He slid out of the covers and padded to his kitchenette. A quick survey of his fridge told him that he needed to go shopping. He ended up standing at the sink, rinsing a pot of rice, trying to keep his eyes open as he went through the soothing, familiar motions. When the rice was started, he put a saucepan of pre-made miso soup on his hot plate to warm. He returned to the sink to fill his electric kettle, and as he watched the water fill the pitcher, a pair of warm arms looped around his waist.

He hadn’t heard Raidou get out of bed, but the touch didn’t warrant surprise beyond a quick glance over his shoulder. Raidou leaned over his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek, before settling his chin on Genma’s shoulder. Genma looked back into the sink to focus on his task, warmth building in his stomach.

“Breakfast?” Raidou asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“Mmhm.” He stepped to the side, moving slowly enough for Raidou to follow without being dislodged. Raidou pressed closer to his back, humming contentedly.

“Surprised you have any food.”

“I don’t have much.” He started the kettle and shifted away from Raidou, enough to turn in his arms and face him. Raidou allowed it, hands sliding to rest on his waist when he leaned against the counter. He set his hands on Raidou’s shoulders, a little hesitant. He wasn’t used to intimacy beyond what he’d shared with Kakashi. And he had never considered that real intimacy, anyway.

“‘S fine.” Raidou’s eyes moved down his body slowly, and back to his face. He still looked sleepy, his mission exhaustion present in faint creases at the corner of his eyes. One of Raidou’s hands lifted to brush through Genma’s hair, tucking a piece behind his ear. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Genma slid his arms around him, deciding to ask for what he wanted with his body, since he was feeling a bit tongue-tied. Raidou followed the direction, stepping closer and leaning down to kiss him. It wasn’t frenzied like the night before, or brief. Raidou’s lips moved against his warmly. The hand toying with his hair cupped his cheek, guiding Genma to a better angle.

When they broke apart, it wasn’t to gasp for air. They just watched each other, both of them silently assessing the other in the faint light spilling through the blinds.

“I have a confession to make,” Raidou said at last.

“What?” Genma asked, leaning back a bit so he could see him properly.

“I’ve been lying to you.” Genma felt his heart sink, and it must have shown on his face, because Raidou shook his head a bit, frowning. “No, no- not about anything… Well, it’s serious. But not in…” He sighed, looking down. His hands stroked slowly up and down Genma’s sides. “I have feelings for you,” he said quietly, eyes settled somewhere around Genma’s navel. Genma was distinctly grateful, since that meant Raidou couldn’t see his surprise, or the heat he felt rush to his face.

“I’ve been trying to avoid them. We’ve been friends for years, and when I realized…” He looked back up, face carefully neutral. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m only telling you now because of last night. I never should have been in charge of you.” He took a slow breath, lips quirking down. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was furious about that mission, and then they assigned you to my team…” He shook his head. “I knew it was a dangerous mission, and I couldn’t focus on doing my job when I couldn’t stop worrying about you.”

“I’m capable of taking care of myself,” Genma said, choosing to defend himself because he didn’t know what to say to the rest of it. “I think I proved that.”

“I know you can. But that didn’t stop me from making rash decisions because I wanted to keep you safe.” He bowed his head a bit, looking appropriately chastised. “I couldn’t imagine how it would feel to be the leader responsible for your death. I couldn’t imagine losing you.”

The past few years, and more specifically the last few months were slowly gaining a new clarity. If Raidou was being honest, that meant Genma needed to reconsider the way their relationship had been progressing. Things he had dismissed to protect himself could have actually been subtle hints of Raidou’s feelings.

“I would know if you had feelings for me,” Genma said, watching him intently. “I couldn’t have missed that.”

“I was doing my best to hide it from you.” Raidou gave him a rueful little smile, there and gone.

“But you flirt with women all the time.”

Raidou arched a brow incredulously. “I don’t flirt with women. They flirt with me. _You_ flirt with women.”

“Because _you_ flirt with women!” Genma accused, leaning back a fraction.

“I have never flirted with anyone other than you,” Raidou said bluntly. “Beyond one night stands,” he added as a caveat, and Genma had several questions about that.

Genma narrowed his eyes, searching for the hint of a lie. “You don’t flirt with me.”

“I buy you gifts,” Raidou pointed out. “I treat you to dinner. I find you as soon as I come home from missions. I cook with you. I tell you my secrets.”

“We’re friends.”

“Do you do all of that with your other friends?” Raidou frowned. “Even though I was trying to hide my feelings, I still thought I was being fairly obvious. There’s no way for me to just treat you as a friend.” A pause. “Unless you just want to be friends. Of course I won’t force anything on you, if last night was just sex to you.”

“Of course it wasn’t.” Genma wrapped his hands around Raidou’s biceps, squeezing. It was his turn to look away, heart flipping. “I’ve- me too. I’ve had… I didn’t want you to know.” His tongue, as always, was clumsy around Raidou, his feelings coming out in a jumble. “You never seemed interested. And you matter too much for… I’ve been watching you since the first day we met. I just- I’ve always wanted to be near you.” He glanced up through his lashes, heart thundering fast enough for him to feel a bit light-headed. He’d never expected to say any of this. “I just want to be near you.”

Raidou was staring at him, eyes wider than usual in a quiet display of shock. He didn’t speak, which meant Genma couldn’t stop talking.

“You didn’t seem interested, so I just figured it was never going to happen. So I ignored it. I didn’t want to push you away.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Raidou said quickly, squeezing his hips. “I’m sorry you thought I would.”

Genma didn’t know what to say. It all felt like a bit too much emoting for one day. Instead, he shifted up to wrap Raidou in his arms, heart fluttering hopefully when Raidou squeezed him close.

\---

They spent the rest of the day together in Genma’s apartment, alternating between napping and painstakingly parsing out the mire that was their relationship.

“I think I realized when Gai told me about your first casualty,” Raidou said quietly while they ate breakfast. “I was so… worried about you. I’ve never felt that kind of bone deep worry for anyone. And seeing you like that broke my heart. I just wanted to take it all away.”

“Kakashi had to tell me I had feelings for you,” Genma murmured a few hours later, curled up beneath his blankets. He had his face hidden against Raidou’s chest, their arms loosely wrapped around each other. “He taught me how to kiss, and told me I could think of you.”

“I didn’t want to put my feelings on you,” Raidou admitted, after they woke up from a late afternoon nap. “But the harder my job got the more I just… needed you. I could keep going if I knew you were waiting for me on the other side.”

“I hate when you go on missions,” Genma said as they did their dinner dishes, standing side-by-side at his small sink. “I spend days thinking about where you might be, wondering how I would find out if you died. No one would come to tell me.”

“You’re gorgeous,” Raidou said into his shoulder, between kisses to the tender skin beneath his ear. Raidou had him pinned to the bed with his body, one hand working between them to stroke them both. Genma was seeing stars, one hand tangled in Raidou’s hair, and the other gripping his headboard hard enough to make the wood bend ominously. “You’re so gorgeous. I love your hair, I love your eyes, I love your stupid- smirk, and that stupid toothpick-” Raidou tugged his earlobe between his teeth and Genma’s vision went white for a moment. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

They climbed into bed together again after separate showers, and while Raidou touched the bruises he’d left behind on Genma’s throat with delicate fingers, Genma said, “You’re the only person that makes me feel safe.” Admitting it felt like cracking open his chest and letting Raidou take a look inside, too vulnerable by far. But Raidou just watched him with calm, knowing eyes.

They were woken up in the middle of the night by a ANBU guard knocking at Genma’s window. “There are enemies in the city,” she said.

\---

The next day, after the intruders were captured, and they knew all of their friends were safe, Raidou said, “We’re together now, aren’t we?” over lunch that they’d prepared together.

“I think so,” Genma said, and couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face.

\---

Over the next week, the dust settled. The village was safe. Mizuki was officially imprisoned. Iruka’s hands healed. Kakashi took a breath. Raidou loved Genma. Genma began accepting it.

On Saturday night, Kakashi invited them to dinner at the dango shop to celebrate Iruka’s recovery. Raidou and Genma arrived before anyone else other than Kakashi, who had already gotten them a table.

“Yo.” Genma sat opposite him, and Raidou slid onto the bench beside him. One of his hands settled immediately on Genma’s knee, casual and easy. It sent a thrill through him; he still wasn’t used to the casual intimacy, and Raidou seemed determined to desensitize him. Genma carefully didn’t look at him, keeping his focus on Kakashi.

It was too late, of course. Kakashi already had a pale brow lifted, masked chin balanced casually on the back of his hand. “Yo.”

Genma narrowed his eyes, clenching his teeth around his toothpick. “How’s it going?”

“I suppose I ought to be asking you.” Kakashi looked at Raidou and smiled, his eyes curving. “Hello, Raidou-kun.”

“Kakashi.” Raidou lips were pressed together, and Genma rolled his eyes when he read his contained amusement. “Thank you for inviting us. We’ve been worried about Iruka.”

“He’s doing well.” Kakashi’s face smoothed, going serious. “His hands are healed but he’s still… upset. Please don’t ask about any of it, I think he needs a night of distraction.”

“Of course.” Raidou nodded. Under the table, his thumb rubbed gently against the side of Genma’s knee. “I’m glad he’s well. The rumours have already spread about his fight.”

Kakashi hummed and dropped his hand to the table, shoulders straightening a bit. “It’s a miracle he managed it. That isn’t a fight he should have won. He nearly fried his chakra network, it’s going to take weeks for it to fully recover.”

Raidou made a sympathetic sound, hand flexing against Genma’s knee. Genma realized suddenly that this was Raidou’s usual agitated fidgeting, but instead of twisting his rings and tugging his fingers, he was touching. Genma felt his cheeks warm faintly. He covered Raidou’s hand awkwardly, squeezing his fingers. Some of the tension in Raidou’s shoulders released.

“Is it just bad chakra exhaustion?” Genma asked. “The kid has great control, I can’t imagine him just blasting his network.”

“He made himself the third and fourth points in an incomplete barrier seal. He was directing his chakra correctly, but it was feeding right back through him wherever it could. And the other nin used a lightning release directly on the barrier too.” Kakashi’s eyes had that dark look, a muscle subtly ticking in his jaw. Genma hissed softly in sympathy.

“Is he having trouble directing?” Raidou turned his hand, tangling their fingers together so he could squeeze Genma’s hand this time.

“Yeah.” Kakashi closed his eyes briefly, letting out a breath. “Tsunade took another look at him before he left the hospital. He’s supposed to limit any use for the next few weeks, and then she’s going to reassess. She said he’ll recover completely, it’s just a question of time.”

“Hey!” Obito and Rin passed through noren from the street. Obito flashed them a wide grin, and Rin wiggled her fingers in greeting as they joined them. “Why the serious faces?”

Kakashi reiterated what he had already explained, and had to start again halfway through when Ebisu and Gai arrived.

“But don’t ask him about it,” Kakashi finished, looking around at each of them. “I mean it. He needs a break.”

“We all understand,” Rin said kindly, reaching over to squeeze his arm.

“Yeah, Kakashi, we’ll be cool,” Obito promised.

Less than a minute later, Iruka dipped into the shop. He was dressed in his typical olive green shorts and a white graphic tee Genma distantly recognized as one of Kakashi’s. He looked as timid as he had the first time Genma had met him, a soft embarrassed blush on his cheeks, and posture slightly curved in. When Kakashi looked over his shoulder at him and patted the space on the bench beside him, the nerves immediately seemed to vanish, a bright grin splitting his face. He dropped into the seat beside Kakashi, bumping arms with him in a familiar, warm way.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted, rubbing the scar over his nose, one of his typical nervous gestures. “Sorry I’m late. I had to bargain for about thirty minutes to get past the door.”

“That’s no surprise, after what happened,” Ebisu said, matter-of-fact. Genma knew he didn’t mean to sound snide, but his tone immediately made Iruka’s posture lock up, his eyes going a bit shadowed. Genma saw Kakashi’s eyes flicker dangerously in Ebisu’s direction, and before things could get uncomfortable, Genma slapped a hand over Ebisu’s mouth before he could finish a question that ominously started with, “I suppose they must be worried-”

“Kakashi already told us,” Genma said, eyes focused on Iruka. Iruka looked back at him, expressive mouth dipping into a small frown. Genma turned the dango stick in his mouth to the opposite side, chewing on it casually, keeping his tone carefully light. “We’re all very proud of you. And we don’t need to hear anything else about it.” He cut Ebisu a look, and he sighed internally at Ebisu’s immediate slumped shoulders and blush. They really needed to work on his interpersonal skills, sometime soon.

“Oh, hey!” Obito leaned forward, looking down the table across Rin and Kakashi to see Iruka. “How psyched is Naruto? Sasuke has gotten at least five times more obnoxious since, _ya know._ ” Obito winked in an exaggeratedly conspiratorial way, and Iruka let out a startled laugh.

“He’s gone insane,” Iruka admitted, his momentary discomfort disappearing. “Seriously. He won’t stop yelling ‘ninja’ and drop kicking the furniture. We’re not sure what we’re going to do when he actually starts taijutsu.”

“Sasuke has officially announced that he’s going to be able to murder me within a year.” Obito wrinkled his nose.

“Well, if he’s half as talented as Itachi, he might be right,” Rin pointed out cheerfully. Obito made a wounded sound.

The rest of the night went by smoothly, the conversation remaining light-hearted and distinctly _not_ about any of the unpleasantness from the previous week. Gai and Ebisu left first, and a few minutes later, Raidou leaned closer, murmuring, “It’s late,” while the hand that had settled on Genma’s knee began trailing up his thigh.

“We’re going to head out,” Genma said quickly, drawing the attention of the rest of their friends. “Early morning.” He ignored Raidou’s slightly smug smile, and certainly ignored Kakashi’s mask-hidden leer. He flicked Raidou’s hand away and stood, going around the table to give Rin a hug goodbye. He ruffled a hand through Obito’s hair and bumped knuckles with Kakashi. When he reached Iruka, he leaned down to wrap him in a casual one armed hug. He leaned close, smiling when Iruka hugged him back and leaned into him. “We really are proud of you, Iruka,” he murmured.

“Thank you,” Iruka whispered back.

Genma straightened and followed Raidou from the shop, smirking to himself when Raidou took his hand as they stepped onto the street.

“Let’s go home,” Raidou said, tugging him towards their neighborhood. Genma let him lead the way.

**Author's Note:**

> this was absolutely a fic i wrote for me, because i wanted to explore genma and raidou. since there isn't that much known about them in canon, it let me take some little details we do know and expand on them as much as i wanted. a big thing i was curious to explore was raidou apparently being one of the most well-known assassins in konoha; here, he becomes an assassin at nineteen, and i tried to touch on the trauma of that, even within the type of ninja society that tries to provide mental health. and i dropped some crumbs about genma learning ninjutsu from tobirama instead of minato - because even in this 'verse, i imagine genma and raidou would become elite hokage bodyguards.
> 
> also i got to drop in some more details/scenes around the time of the main story, which was fun. and i apologize for having a low-grade obsession with their various accessories.
> 
> also no beta, live free, die hard
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [noodletastic](https://noodletastic.tumblr.com).


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